ISS 


A    GENTLE    PIONEER 


' 


HISTORICAL   BOOKS   BY   AMY   E. 
BLANCHARD. 

A  GIRL  OF  '76.  A  STORY  OF  THE  EARLY  PERIOD  OF 
THE  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE.  Illustrated.  331  pages. 
Cloth.  1 1. 50. 

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PERIOD  OF  THE  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE.  Illustrated. 
321  pages.  Cloth.  $1.50. 

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A  HEROINE  OF  1812.     A  MARYLAND  ROMANCE.     Illus- 
trated.    335  pages.     Cloth.    $1.50. 

A  LOYAL  LASS.    A  STORY  OF  THE  NIAGARA  CAMPAIGN 
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A  GENTLE  PIONEER.  BEING  THE  STORY  OF  THE 
EARLY  DAYS  IN  THE  NEW  WEST.  Illustrated.  336 
pages.  Cloth. 


SHE   STOLE   HER  ARM    AROUND   HER   FATHER'S  NECK. 


A    GENTLE     PIONEER 

BEING  THE  STORT  OF  THE  EARLY 
DATS  IN  THE  NEW  WEST 

BY 

\    AMY   E.    BLANCHARD 

ILLUSTRATED    BY 
IDA  WAUGH 


W.   A.   WILDE   COMPANY 
BOSTON  AND  CHICAGO 


Copyright,  rqoj, 

BY  W.  A.  WILDE  COMPANY. 

All  rights  reserved. 


A  GENTLE  PIONEER. 

Published  in  July. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  EMIGRANTS 9 

II.  THE  HOUSEWARMING 24 

III.  A  SEARCH 43 

IV.  THE  UNEXPECTED 58 

V.  POLLY -  73 

VI.  JEANIE'S  SECRET 89 

VII.  THE  INTRUDER 105 

VIII.  ARCHIE'S  PLAN 121 

IX.  WHAT  THE  FRESHET  BROUGHT      ....  139 

X.  HONEY 155 

XI.  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  VISIT   .        .        .  .170 

XII.  MOTHER 187 

XIII.  PLOTTING ,        .205 

XIV.  JEANIE'S  WEDDING-DAY 223 

XV.  WHO  HAD  THE  WILL     ......  241 

XVI.  A  SUPPER  AT  PARKER  WILLETT'S         .        .        .  256 

XVII.  IN  ABSENCE 271 

XVIII.  THE  OVERTHROW  OF  HUMPHREY  .        .        ,        .  287 

XIX.  DR.  FLINT .  304 

XX.  HER  HEART'S  DESIRE     .        .        .        •        .        .321 

5 


MJL06337 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

u  She  stole  her  arm  around  her  father's  neck"  Frontispiece  10 
"  Agnes  slipped  off  to  a  corner  where  Jeanie  found  her  "  .  37 
"  She  drew  aside  the  curtain  from  the  little  window  "  .  .108 
"  Very  sweet  did  the  girlish  voices  sound  "  .  .  .  .180 

u  Parker  watched  her  for  a  few  minutes,  not  attempting  to 

help " .263 


A    GENTLE    PIONEER 


CHAPTER   I 

EMIGRANTS        '•,•/>'',? 

IT  was  a  grave  little  company  which  sat  around  the 
big  fireplace  of  the  Kennedy  farm-house  one  night 
in  March.  Outside  the  wind  howled  and  blustered,  and 
even  though  a  huge  log  fire  shot  its  flames  in  fine 
fashion  up  the  wide  chimney,  there  was  necessity  for 
sand-bags  at  the  door,  and  for  heavy  homespun  curtains 
at  the  windows  to  keep  out  the  insistent  draughts  which 
would  make  their  way  through  every  chink  and  cranny. 
The  younger  children  cuddled  close  together  on  the 
hearth,  their  mother  from  time  to  time  looking  up  from 
her  work  to  watch  them  thoughtfully ;  their  father,  silent 
and  moody,  gazed  into  the  snapping  fire,  while  Agnes 
herself,  old  enough  to  understand  better  than  her 
brothers  and  sisters  the  cause  of  the  unusual  serious- 
ness, paused  more  than  once  in  her  task  of  knitting  to 
steal  a  glance  at  her  parents. 

At  last  Mrs.  Kennedy  aroused  herself.  "Come, 
bairns,"  she  said,  "it  is  long  past  bedtime.  Off  with 
you.  I'll  hear  your  prayers  and  see  you  safely  tucked 

9 


10  A   GENTLE  PIONEER 

in."  Accustomed  to  prompt  obedience,  the  children 
arose,  Sandy  and  Margret,  Jock  and  Jessie.  Agnes 
alone  stayed  behind  at  a  nod  from  her  mother. 

When  the  last  little  lagging  foot  had  ceased  to  be 
heard  upon  the  stair,  the  girl  turned  to  her  father  and 
said,  "I,am  going  to  sit  up  till  you  and  mother  go 
to  bed,  for  this  is  the  last  night  in  a  long  time  that  we 


n  a  long  time,"  he  sighed;  and  then  Agnes, 
contradicting  her  own  statement,  returned  :  "  Oh,  no, 
not  a  long  time  ;  in  a  very  little  while  we  shall  be  able 
to  send  for  them.  Won't  it  be  good,  father,  to  see  them 
all  coming,  Sandy  and  Margret  and  Jock  and  Jessie? 
You  will  go  for  them,  and  I  will  get  a  hot  supper  ready, 
and  they  will  all  be  so  surprised  to  see  how  fine  a  place 
a  log-cabin  can  be.  Think  of  it,  this  time  next  year 
we  shall  all  be  together  again."  She  stole  her  arm 
around  her  father's  neck  and  laid  her  cheek  against  his. 
"  Aren't  you  glad  I  am  going  ?  "  she  asked  with  a  little 
laugh. 

"I  am,  my  lass,  though  I  misdoubt  I  am  selfish  in 
taking  you  from  your  mother." 

"  Sh  !  There  she  comes  ;  we  must  look  very  cheer- 
ful. We  were  talking  about  what  fun  it  will  be  when 
you  and  the  children  come,"  she  said  brightly,  as  her 
mother  entered. 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply,  "but  there's  a  weary  time 
between." 


EMIGRANTS  1 1 

"  Oh,  no,  it  will  go  very  quickly,  for  there  will  be  so 
much  to  do.  First  our  going  and  then  your  getting  off 
to  Cousin  Sarah's,  and  all  that." 

"  Youth  likes  change,"  returned  her  mother,  with  a 
sigh,  "  but  Agnes,  child,  it  is  not  worth  while  your  bid- 
ing here  all  night  talking  of  it.  Go  to  bed,  my  lass. 
To-morrow  will  come  soon  enough,  no  matter  how  late 
we  sit  up,  and  you  have  a  long  journey  before  you." 
She  spoke  so  gravely  that  suddenly  it  came  to  Agnes 
that  the  exciting  plan  in  which  she  was  so  deeply  con- 
cerned meant  more  than  change  and  adventure ;  it 
meant  hardship  and  separations  from  those  she  loved ; 
it  meant  long  absence  from  her  mother  and  the  little 
ones ;  it  meant  the  parting  from  old  neighbors  and  the 
giving  up  of  the  old  home  where  she  was  born.  So  she 
very  soberly  made  her  good  nights  and  went  to  her  chilly 
upper  room  with  a  serious  countenance. 

The  wind  whistling  around  the  corners  of  the  house, 
shrieking  through  the  keyholes  and  sighing  about  the 
chimney,  sounded  particularly  doleful  to  her  that  night 
as  she  lay  snuggled  down  in  the  big  feather-bed  by  the 
side  of  her  little  sister  Margret,  and  she  remained  awake 
for  a  long  time.  Life  had  gone  on  evenly  enough  for 
all  the  fifteen  years  that  this  had  been  her  home,  and  the 
boundaries  of  the  big  farm  seemed  likely  to  hedge  her 
in  for  some  years  to  come,  but  within  a  year  her  grand- 
father and  grandmother  had  both  died,  and  her  father, 
who  as  the  youngest  child  had  always  lived  at  home  with 


12  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

the  old  folks,  now  must  possess  only  a  share  of  the  farm, 
and  the  elder  brothers,  already  prosperous  men,  would 
claim  their  heritage. 

"It  was  right  of  father  not  to  be  willing  to  settle 
down  here  on  a  little  bit  of  a  tract  and  have  them  all 
free  enough  with  their  advice  but  with  nothing  else," 
thought  Agnes.  "  My  uncles  are  a  canny,  thrifty  set, 
but  they  save,  and  save,  and  never  remember  that  but 
for  his  care  of  his  parents  my  father,  too,  might  own  his 
own  homestead,  and  grandfather  forgot,  too.  Perhaps 
he  thought  the  others  would  give  the  farm  to  father,  — 
he  ought  to  have  it,  —  but  they  are  too  stingy  to  give  it 
and  he  is  too  proud  to  ask  it.  I  am  glad  my  grand- 
mother was  not  their  mother,  for  father  is  far  different. 
Dear  father !  Oh,  yes,  I  am  glad  to  go  with  him.  He 
deserves  to  have  all  the  comfort  he  can  get  after  being 
treated  so  hardly  by  his  family.  We  were  always  good 
comrades,  my  father  and  I ;  for  I  was  the  baby  all  those 
years  before  Sandy  came, — three  years."  But  the  reckon- 
ing of  years  soon  became  lost  in  the  land  of  dreams,  and 
the  song  of  the  wind  in  the  chimney  was  Agnes's  last 
lullaby  in  the  old  home. 

It  was  a  bright  sunny  morning  that  Agnes  and  her 
father  took  for  starting  out  upon  their  journey,  the  man 
on  foot,  and  Agnes  established  in  a  sort  of  basket  or 
creel  made  of  willow  and  fastened  to  one  side  of  the 
packhorse,  balancing  the  burden  of  provisions  and  other 
necessities  made  in  a  bundle  on  the  other.  It  was  only 


EMIGRANTS  13 

when  she  was  tired  that  Agnes  would  ride,  but  she  was 
resolved  to  start  out  in  this  fashion  for  the  benefit  of  her 
brothers  and  sisters,  assembled  on  the  doorstep  to  see  the 
start  and  vastly  interested  in  the  whole  proceeding. 
There  was  another  reason,  too,  why  the  girl  established 
herself  in  her  creel,  for  the  parting  between  herself  and 
her  mother  had  been  too  much  for  them  both,  and  the 
tears  were  raining  down  the  little  emigrant's  cheeks  as 
she  quavered  out,  "  Good-by,  all."  But  the  horse  had 
scarcely  started  before  she  begged  to  stop,  and,  leaping 
out,  she  ran  back  to  where  her  mother  stood  vainly  striv- 
ing to  check  the  sobs  which  convulsed  her.  "  Oh,  mother, 
mother ! "  Agnes  flung  her  arms  around  her  neck  and 
kissed  the  dear  face  again  and  again.  "  Don't  forget 
me,  mother.  Good-by,  once  more." 

"God  keep  you  safe,  my  lamb,"  came  the  broken 
words,  and  Agnes  ran  back  again  to  where  her  father, 
with  bent  head  and  lips  compressed,  waited  for  her. 
She  climbed  up  into  her  creel  again,  and  they  started 
off  with  no  more  delay.  As  far  as  she  could  see  Agnes 
watched  first  the  group  on  the  porch,  then  the  white 
house,  and  last  of  all  the  familiar  outline  of  field,  hill, 
and  dale.  At  last  these,  too,  became  but  dim  distance, 
and  Agnes  Kennedy  had  seen  her  old  home  for  the  last 
time. 

The  ride  was  made  in  silence  for  some  distance,  and 
then  Agnes  remembered  that  in  the  last  talk  early  that 
morning  her  mother  had  said :  "You  must  try  and  keep 


14  A   GENTLE  PIONEER 

a  good  heart  in  father,  my  child,  for  he  is  given  to 
being  despondent  at  times  and  is  easily  discouraged. 
It  is  a  great  cross  for  him  to  be  parted  from  his  family 
and  to  leave  the  safe  and  pleasant  ways  he  has  been 
accustomed  to  all  his  life,  so  try  to  cheer  him  all  you 
can."  Therefore  Agnes  from  her  creel  called  out: 
"  I'm  going  to  walk  awhile,  father ;  there'll  be  plenty 
of  times  when  I  shall  have  to  ride.  I  might  as  well 
walk  while  I  can,  and,  besides,  I  shall  be  nearer  you." 

Her  father  stopped,  and  then  the  two  trudged  to- 
gether toward  the  town  to  which  they  were  first  going. 

"  I  shall  not  be  surprised,"  Agnes  remarked,  "  if  we 
have  company  when  we  are  fairly  on  our  way,  for  I 
hear  there  are  trains  and  trains  of  wagons  besides  the 
packhorse  going  westward.  I'd  like  a  merry  company, 
wouldn't  you,  daddy  ?  " 

Her  father  shook  his  head.  "  I  misdoubt  it,  Nancy. 
I'm  no  one  for  new  acquaintances,  as  ye  weel  know." 

"Ah,  but  I  am,"  returned  Agnes,  "and  that's  for 
why  you  are  better  when  I  am  along.  You  don't  draw 
so  dour  a  face.  It's  no  worse  that  we  are  doing  than 
your  grandfather  did,  and  no  so  bad,  for  did  he  not 
leave  his  country  and  come  across  the  ocean  to  this 
land  ?  But  no,  it  wasn't  really  his  own  country,  Ire- 
land, was  it  ?  for  before  that  his  father  —  or  was  it  his 
grandfather  ?  —  fled  from  Scotland  because  he  followed  a 
Protestant  king.  Grandfather  used  to  tell  me  about 
it  all  and  the  songs  they  sang.  'Scots  wha  hae  wi' 


EMIGRANTS  1$ 

Wallace  bled '  "  she  trolled  out  as  she  ran  along,  keeping 
step  with  her  father's  long  strides.  "  And  how  far  do 
we  have  to  go  before  we  come  to  the  Ohio  ? "  she  asked 
after  a  while. 

"  Near  two  hundred  miles,"  he  told  her. 

"  Let  me  see ;  we  go  ten  miles  to-day,  which  is  nothing 
of  a  walk,  and  we  spend  the  night  in  Carlisle,  where 
you  get  another  horse,  and  we  go  how  far  the  next  day?" 

"  Twenty-five  or  thirty,  I  think  we  can  count  on." 

"  And  that  much  every  day  ? " 

"  If  the  weather  is  good." 

"Then  in  four  or  five  days  we  shall  go  a  hundred 
miles,  and  in  a  little  over  a  week,  say  ten  days,  we  shall 
get  there.  I  wonder  what  it  looks  like." 

"  Not  so  very  different  from  what  you  see  now  —  a 
trifle  wilder,  mayhap.  But  I  wouldn't  count  on  our 
making  it  in  ten  days ;  when  we  are  crossing  the  moun- 
tains, it  will  be  sore  work,  verra  rough  travelling." 

"  Oh ! "  Agnes  was  a  little  disappointed.  She 
thought  it  might  be  quite  different  and  that  the  trip 
would  be  made  in  short  order,  delays  not  having 
entered  into  her  calculations.  However  she  resumed 
the  conversation  cheerfully.  "  Now  let  us  talk  about 
what  we  are  going  to  do  when  we  get  there." 

"  My  first  step  will  be  to  get  my  land." 

"  And  then  stake  it  out,"  said  Agnes,  glad  to  display 
her  knowledge  of  the  necessary  proceedings. 

"  Yes." 


16  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"And  next?'' 

"  Build  a  log-cabin." 

"You'll  have  to  cut  down  the  trees  first  and  then 
have  —  what  do  they  call  it? — a  log-rolling." 

"  Yes,  that  will  come  first." 

Agnes  was  silent  a  moment,  then  she  began  again. 
"  Father,  I  never  thought  to  ask  before,  but  where  are 
we  going  to  sleep  nights  after  we  leave  Carlisle  ? " 

"  We'll  make  the  towns  along  the  way  as  far  as  we 
can,  and  when  we  pass  beyond  them,  we  may  find  a 
booth  or  so  or  maybe  a  cabin  here  and  there,  put  up 
for  the  use  of  travellers  like  ourselves.  When  we  reach 
the  river,  I  may  conclude  to  get  a  broad,  as  your  grand- 
father Muirhead  did." 

"  What  is  a  broad  ?  " 

"  A  broadhorn,  they  call  it,  is  a  flat  boat  to  be  used 
in  shallow  water  to  carry  a  family's  belongings." 

Agnes  smiled ;  this  was  such  an  adventurous  way  of 
going.  The  boat,  particularly,  gave  her  a  feeling  of 
novelty.  "  I  hope  you  will  get  a  boat ;  it  would  be  a 
diversion  to  travel  that  way,  and  then  no  one  would 
have  to  walk,  not  even  you,  Donald."  She  patted  the 
horse  affectionately.  "Go  on,  father.  Where  do  we 
get  the  boat?" 

"  That  I  cannot  say  exactly.  It  may  be  at  Fort  Pitt 
or  it  may  be  at  some  other  place.  I  am  going  to  hunt 
up  your  cousin  James  at  Uniontown,  and  we'll  see 
then." 


EMIGRANTS  17 

With  this  sort  of  talk  and  with  long  periods  of  silence 
the  day  wore  on  till,  late  in  the  afternoon,  they  ap- 
proached Carlisle,  and  there  the  first  stop  was  made. 
It  was  quite  a  familiar  journey  to  this  point,  but  from 
there  on  the  way  led  through  a  part  of  the  country 
unknown  to  Agnes,  and  the  day's  travels  became 
wilder  and  wilder  as  they  approached  the  mountains. 
It  was  then  that  Agnes  understood  her  father's  smile 
when  she  first  insisted  upon  the  twenty-five  miles  a  day, 
saying  that  it  could  be  easily  covered,  for  many  a  night 
it  was  a  very  weary  girl  who  crept  into  whatever  shelter 
was  afforded  her,  and  slept  so  soundly  that  not  even 
the  cry  of  an  owl  or  the  distant  scream  of  a  wildcat 
could  arouse  her. 

But  at  last  the  mountains  were  passed,  and  one  day 
they  stopped  at  a  small  village  consisting  of  a  few  houses 
and  a  store.  It  was  on  the  line  of  the  emigrant's  road 
to  western  Virginia  and  Ohio,  and  here  stores  were  laid 
in  by  the  pioneer  who  did  not  want  to  transport  too 
much  stuff  across  the  mountains.  Here  halted  more 
than  one  emigrant  train,  and,  as  Agnes  and  her  father 
drew  up  before  the  house  that  with  small  pretension  was 
denoted  an  inn,  they  saw  in  the  muddy  street  several 
canvas-covered  wagons.  "  Ho,  for  the  Ohio !  "  Agnes  read 
upon  one  of  these  vehicles.  She  laughed,  and  at  the 
same  time  her  eyes  met  the  merry  ones  of  a  girl  peep- 
ing out  from  the  wagon  just  ahead.  With  a  little  cry  of 
pleasure  Agnes  ran  forward.  "  Ah,  Jeanie  M'Clean,  is 
c 


1 8  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

it  you  ?  Who  would  have  thought  it  ?  A  year  ago  you 
went  away  and  you  are  still  going." 

"  Indeed,  I  am  then,"  returned  Jeanie.  "  Father  has 
the  fever  as  well  as  many  another,  and  he  says  we  shall 
have  better  luck  if  we  be  moving  on  than  if  we  stayed 
where  we  were,  so  we're  bound  for  the  Ohio  this  time, 
and  it's  glad  we'll  be  to  have  you  join  us,  if  you  go  that 
way." 

"We  do  go  that  way,  and  I  shall  be  glad  when  my 
father  cries,  '  Stop ! '  How  long  do  you  stay  here,  and 
where  is  your  halting-place  to  be  at  last  ? " 

"  We  stay  till  to-morrow,  and  we  are  going  somewhere 
this  side  of  Marietta.  The  oxen  are  not  fast  travellers, 
not  half  as  fast  as  the  packhorses,  but  it  is  an  easy 
way  for  us  women  folks.  Aren't  you  tired  of  your 
creel?" 

"  Indeed  am  I,  but  it  seemed  the  best  way  for  me  to 
come  when  there  are  but  two  of  us.  Mother  and  the 
children  will  follow  as  soon  as  we  are  well  settled.  I 
think  father  will  maybe  get  a  broadhorn,  though  maybe 
not.  I  hope  he  will,  for  it  seems  to  me  it  would  be  the 
most  comfortable  way  of  travelling." 

"  So  many  think ;  and  it  is  no  loss,  for  they  use  the 
boats  after  in  building  their  houses.  We  have  our 
wagon  and  get  along  very  well.  See  how  comfortable 
it  is.  Climb  up  and  look." 

Agnes  did  as  she  was  bid,  and  indeed  the  monstrous 
wagon  looked  quite  like  a  little  room  with  its  feather- 


EMIGRANTS  19 

beds  and  stools,  its  pots,  pans,  spinning-wheel,  and  even 
the  cradle  swung  from  its  rounded  top.  "  It  is  comfort- 
able," she  acknowledged;  "far  more  so  than  the  creel. 
I'd  like  to  travel  so,  I  think,  but  I  must  follow  my 
father's  will,  of  course.  I  see  him  there  now,  Jeanie, 
talking  to  your  father." 

"  I  hope  daddy  will  persuade  him  to  join  our  train ; 
the  more  the  merrier  and  the  —  safer.  Oh,  Agnes,  shall 
you  fear  the  Indians  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  so.  There  is  no  war  at  this  time  and 
they  should  not  be  hostile,  father  says.  I  am  more 
afraid  of  the  wild  beasts.  Oh,  how  lonely  it  was  some 
nights  when  we  were  coming  over  the  mountains  and 
could  hear  the  wolves  howling  and  the  wildcats  scream- 
ing so  near  us.  Many  a  time  I  wished  myself  safe  at 
home  in  my  little  bed  with  Margret.  I  would  like  to 
join  your  train,  Jeanie,  for  my  father  is  not  a  great 
talker,  and  there  are  days  when  we  jog  along  and  I  tire 
more  of  keeping  my  tongue  still  than  I  do  of  keeping 
my  legs  going." 

Jeanie  laughed.  "  Here  come  our  fathers.  Now  we 
will  hear  what  they  have  to  say." 

"  The  inn  is  full,  Agnes,"  said  Fergus  Kennedy, 
"though  I  may  be  able  to  get  a  corner  on  the  floor  with 
some  others.  But  what  about  you  ?  We  will  have  to 
see  if  some  of  the  good  people  in  the  village  will  take 
you  in." 

"Indeed,  then,"    spoke  up  Joseph  M'Clean,  "she'll 


20  A   GENTLE    PIONEER 

not  have  to  go  that  far.  We've  room  enough  on  our 
beds  for  one  more,  and  she'll  be  welcome  to  a  place  by 
Jeanie,  I'll  warrant." 

"  She'll  be  that,"  Jeanie  spoke  up,  "  so  you'll  not  look 
further,  Agnes.  Will  we  camp  farther  on,  father  ?  " 

"  Yes,  just  a  pace  beyond,  where  Archie  has  taken 
the  cattle."  Agnes  looked  to  where  she  could  see  a 
couple  of  packhorses,  two  cows,  a  yellow  dog,  and  two 
small  pigs,  these  last  being  in  a  creel  slung  at  the  side  of 
one  of  the  horses.  Underneath  the  wagon  swung  a  coop 
full  of  chickens.  Joseph  M'Clean  was  well  stocked  up. 
When  the  baby  was  safely  in  its  cradle  slung  overhead, 
and  Mrs.  M'Clean  and  the  children  were  ensconced  in  a 
row  on  the  feather-bed,  Agnes  found  herself  occupying 
the  outside  place,  a  fact  for  which  she  was  thankful, 
and  not  even  the  strangeness  of  the  position  kept  her 
awake  long. 

She  was  awakened  bright  and  early  by  the  general 
uprising  of  the  family  and  by  the  sound  of  Archie's 
voice  calling,  "  Mother,  mother,  sun's  up."  And  so 
the  day  began.  Later  on,  when  Agnes's  father  sought 
her,  it  was  to  say  that  he  had  concluded  to  join  Joseph 
M'Clean  and  his  friends.  "  I'll  feel  better  to  be  by  those 
I've  known  since  childhood  than  in  the  neighborhood  of 
strangers,"  he  declared,  "  and  Joseph  says  there's  land 
enough  for  all.  I  did  think  of  going  further  away  to 
hunt  up  that  property  of  your  grandfather  Muirhead's, 
—  it  was  what  your  mother  wanted,  —  but  I've  concluded 


EMIGRANTS  21 

to  settle  this  side.  So  we'll  go  along  with  our  friends, 
and  I  don't  doubt  but  you'll  be  better  satisfied,  Agnes." 

Therefore  the  rest  of  the  way  Agnes,  for  the  most 
part,  kept  her  place  by  Jeanie  in  the  big  wagon,  or, 
when  tired  of  sitting  still,  the  two  would  get  out  and 
keep  pace  with  the  slow-going  oxen,  while  the  pack- 
horses  went  on  ahead.  In  this  manner  they  covered  the 
whole  distance,  camping  at  night,  and  starting  off  be- 
times in  the  morning,  the  line  of  white-covered  wagons 
winding  along  the  rough  roads  slowly  but  surely,  and 
each  day  bringing  the  little  band  of  emigrants  nearer  to 
their  destination,  though  Agnes  found  the  ten  days  had 
lengthened  into  weeks  before  they  came  to  their  final 
stop  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio. 

This  long-looked-for  moment  arrived,  there  was  much 
excitement  and  nfhch  running  to  and  fro.  The  men 
stalked  about  gesticulating  and  pointing  out  the  various 
features  of  the  landscape ;  the  women  gathered  together 
in  groups,  laughing  and  talking  ;  the  more  adventurous 
children  wanted  to  form  exploring  parties  at  once,  while 
the  timid  ones  clung  close  to  their  mothers,  awed  by  the 
deep,  impenetrable  forest  in  which  all  sorts  of  dangers, 
real  or  fancied,  lurked.  Then  one  after  another  the 
little  cabins  were  erected  of  rough,  hewn  logs,  and  in  a 
short  time  all  of  them  were  snuggled  down,  each  in  its 
little  hollow,  where  the  newly  chopped  stumps  indicated 
a  clearing.  There  was,  too,  a  stockade  and  fort  not  too 
far  distant,  for  Indians  were  not  to  be  trusted,  even  in 


22  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

times  of  peace,  and  the  shelter  of  the  stockade  would  be 
necessary  when  there  came  a  warning. 

It  was  quite  summer  by  the  time  Agnes  and  her 
father  took  possession  of  their  home  in  the  wonderful, 
mysterious  forest.  A  humble  little  house  it  was  with 
its  rude  chimney  plastered  with  clay,  its  unglazed  win- 
dows with  their  heavy  wooden  shutters.  Its  great 
fireplace  in  the  one  room  was  where  Agnes  would 
cook  the  daily  meals ;  the  little  loft  overhead,  reached 
by  a  rough  ladder,  was  her  bedroom.  Skins  of  wild 
animals  composed  her  bed  and  coverlet,  and  the  daily 
food  would  be  found  close  at  hand,  —  game  from  the 
forest,  milk  from  the  cow  they  had  bought,  and  por- 
ridge or  mush  from  meal  which  they  ground  them- 
selves. 

Jeanie  M'Clean,  half  a  mile  on  one  side,  and  the 
O'Neills,  half  a  mile  the  other,  were  the  nearest  neigh- 
bors, so  that,  with  her  father  busy  all  day  in  the  woods 
hunting  or  clearing  his  land,  it  was  rather  a  lonely 
life  for  the  girl  used  to  a  family  of  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, and  with  a  mother  to  consult  with  and  direct  her. 
Yet  it  was  a  very  free  life ;  and  the  little  log-cabin  an 
easy  house  to  keep,  consequently  Agnes  could  almost 
daily  find  time  to  run  through  the  woods  for  a  chat 
with  Jeanie  M'Clean,  though  it  was  to  good-natured, 
kind-hearted  Polly  O'Neill  that  she  took  her  troubles. 
Polly,  with  just  a  taste  of  the  brogue  and  her  cheery 
face,  was  a  good  companion  when  one  felt  doncy. 


EMIGRANTS  23 

Nothing  seemed  to  bother  Polly ;  and  if  her  four 
children,  the  eldest  nothing  more  than  a  baby,  all 
clung  to  her  skirts  at  once,  it  did  not  seem  to  interfere 
with  her  movements.  Jimmy  O'Neill  had  set  up  his 
forge  there  in  the  wilderness,  and  as  the  blacksmith 
was  a  very  important  figure  in  the  community  where 
men  must  make  many  of  their  own  farming  imple- 
ments, there  was  generally  a  company  to  be  seen  and 
news  to  be  had  at  Polly's,  and  Agnes  congratulated 
herself  that  she  lived  so  near. 


CHAPTER   II 

THE  HOUSEWARMING 

IT  was  to  Polly  that  Agnes  went  one  afternoon  when 
her  father  had  been  absent  all  day  and  the  gloom 
of  the  great  encircling  forest  had  oppressed  her  more 
than  usual.  Polly  was  bustling  about,  singing  happily, 
when  Agnes  appeared  at  the  door  of  the  cabin.  "  Is 
it  yersel',  Nancy,  child  ?  Come  right  in,"  was  the  greet- 
ing. "Jerry,  lad,  get  a  stool  for  Nancy.  The  bairnies 
do  be  all  in  a  pother  agen  I  get  their  bit  of  supper,  so 
I'll  go  on  with  it,  Nancy." 

"  Isn't  it  early  for  supper  ? "  asked  Agnes,  sitting 
down  and  picking  up  the  baby  who  was  crawling  about 
on  the  puncheon  floor. 

"  Early  it  is ;  but  if  there  was  ten  meals  the  day, 
they'd  get  hungry  between  'em,  and  the  porritch  is  all 
gone,  so  I'm  makin'  more,  for  when  they  see  the  pot's 
empty  they  begin  to  cry.  As  if,"  she  surveyed  the 
group  smiling,  "  their  mother  didn't  know  where  to  get 
more.  And  how  goes  the  world  with  ye,  Nancy  ?  " 

"It  goes  a  wee  bit  dour  to-day,"  said  Agnes,  sighing. 
"  Father  has  been  gone  all  day  to  the  far  clearing,  and 

24 


THE   HOUSEW ARMING  25 

there's  no  one  for  me  to  talk  to  but  the  squirrels  and 
the  birds." 

"  And  it's  lame  yer  tongue  gets  from  the  long  rest. 
Sure  you've  a  nimble  tongue,  I  notice,  Nancy,  and  it's 
hard  to  keep  it  restin'." 

Agnes  laughed.  "  So  it  is,  but  I  didn't  suppose  you 
had  noticed  that." 

"  It  'ud  be  hard  not.  I  mind  the  last  time  ye  were 
here  with  Archie  M' Clean  that  sorry  a  word  could  he 
get  in." 

"  Oh,  Archie,  he  doesn't  talk  even  when  one  is  still, 
and  to  sit  hours  at  a  time  gazing  at  another  is  not  to 
my  liking." 

"  Puir  Archie  ;  he  uses  his  eyes  if  not  his  tongue,  and 
what  is  one  better  than  the  other  to  use  ? " 

"  I'd  rather  a  wagging  tongue  than  a  blinking  eye  ; 
it's  more  cheerful,"  responded  Agnes. 

"  I  misdoubt  it  when  the  tongue  wags  to  your  dis- 
credit," returned  Polly.  "  But,  my  fathers  !  who's  a 
longer  tongue  than  mesel'  ?  An*  I'm  not  one  to  run 
down  me  own  most  spakin'  attrybutes." 

"  Ah,  but  you  never  speak  ill  of  any  one,  Polly.  Here, 
let  me  stir  the  mush  and  you  take  the  baby ;  he  is  fret- 
ting for  you." 

"  He's  frettin'  for  his  sleep,"  said  Polly.  "  Sure  he's 
wor'd  out  with  creepin'  the  floor.  I'll  put  him  in  his 
cradle  and  he'll  drop  off."  She  drew  the  cradle  from 
the  corner ;  a  queer  little  affair  it  was,  made  of  a  barrel 


26  A   GENTLE  PIONEER 

sawed  across  halfway,  then  lengthwise,  and  set  upon 
clumsy  rockers,  but  baby  found  his  bearskin  as  soft  as 
any  mattress  could  be,  and  the  lullaby  of  his  little  four- 
year-old  sister  as  sweet  as  any  music. 

"Land!  but  I  clane  forgot  to  tell  ye,"  exclaimed 
Polly,  when  the  baby  was  settled;  "there's  to  be  a 
housewarming  next  week." 

"Oh,  whose?"  cried  Agnes. 

"Johnny  McCormick's." 

"Then  he's  married." 

"  Married  he  is.  He  fetched  his  bride  home  from 
Marietta  yesterday.  They're  at  his  brother's.  They're 
to  have  the  housewarming  next  week." 

"  Oh,  Polly,  will  you  be  going  ?  " 

"  Will  I  ?  Was  I  ever  absent  from  a  scutching  frolic, 
or  a  corn-shucking,  or  a  housewarming,  or  the  like  ? 
Tell  me  that,  Nancy  Kennedy." 

Agnes  made  no  answer,  but  sat  watching  Polly  ladling 
out  her  bubbling  mass  of  mush.  "  What  fine  new  bowls 
you  have,  Polly,"  she  said. 

"Jimmy,  my  man,  made  'em  o*  nights.  He's  a 
crackerjack  at  anything  like  that,  is  Jimmy.  Come, 
children,  set  by."  And  putting  a  piggin  of  milk  on  the 
table,  Polly  placed  the  bowls  in  their  places  while  the 
children  stood  around,  the  younger  ones  in  glee,  beating 
on  the  table  with  their  wooden  spoons. 

"  I  must  run  home  now,"  said  Agnes,  "  for  my  father 
will  be  in,  and  I  must  get  his  supper,  and  the  cows  are 


THE   HOUSEWARMING  2? 

to  be  brought  up.  I'll  get  them  on  the  way  back  if 
they  have  not  strayed  too  far." 

"  Ye'll  no  stay  and  sup  with  the  children  ?  Jimmy 
and  I  will  have  our  bite  when  he  comes  in." 

"  No,  thank  you.  I  don't  want  to  be  late  getting 
home.  The  woods  are  dark  enough  by  day,  and  when 
the  evening  comes,  it's  worse.  I'll  keep  along  by  the 
river  bank  where  it's  lighter.  Father  shot  a  wildcat  yes- 
terday. We  are  getting  quite  a  pile  of  skins  against 
the  winter." 

"They're  very  useful,"  said  Polly.  "I'll  show  ye 
how  to  make  yersel'  a  jacket ;  you'll  be  wantin'  wan  by 
the  cold  weather,  and  squirrel  skin  makes  a  fine  one. 
They're  a  pest,  the  gray  squirrels,  but  they're  not  so 
bad  to  eat,,  and  the  skins,  though  small,  are  warm  and 
soft." 

"  I've  shot  a  number  of  them,  though  I  hate  to;  they 
are  so  pretty  and  so  frisky  and  friendly." 

"  They're  far  too  friendly  —  they  are  so  plentiful  and 
eat  up  all  our  corn ;  and,  after  all,  it  is  better  that  we 
should  kill  them  mercifully  than  that  they  should  be 
torn  asunder  by  wild  beasts." 

"  That  is  what  father  says." 

"  And  father's  right ;  our  corn  crops  will  be  small 
enough  if  we  allow  all  the  squirrels  to  help  themselves. 
Well,  good-by,  Nancy;  don't  forget  the  housewarming." 

"  I'll  not."  And  Agnes  took  her  way  along  the  nar- 
row bridle-path  toward  the  river,  glad  to  find  it  was 


28  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

lighter  outside  than  in  the  dim  cabin,  the  windows  of 
which,  covered  with  linen  smeared  with  bear's  grease, 
did  not  admit  much  light.  Still  it  was  later  than  she 
cared  to  be  out  alone,  brave  though  she  was,  and 
accustomed  to  the  dangers  of  the  forest,  and  she  was 
more  than  usually  glad  to  meet  Archie  M'Clean  coming 
through  the  woods  with  his  cows. 

"  Have  you  seen  anything  of  Sukey  ?  "  Agnes  called. 

Archie  paused  to  think,  then  answered.  "  She's  over 
there  a  bit.  I'll  go  fetch  her  for  you." 

"  Oh,  no,  don't  do  that.  I  can  get  her  if  you  tell  me 
where  she  is." 

But  Archie  was  striding  down  the  path  and  Agnes 
stood  still  waiting,  keeping  an  eye  the  while  on  Archie's 
cows.  Presently  the  familiar  tinkle  of  Sukey 's  bell 
announced  her  approach,  then  the  girl  and  the  lad 
slowly  followed  the  cows  along  the  river's  bank,  Agnes 
doing  most  of  the  talking,  but  Archie  her  willing  listener. 

The  little  settlement  was  slowly  increasing.  More 
than  one  young  man,  though  he  possessed  little  beyond 
his  rifle,  his  horse,  and  his  axe;  was  ready  to  marry  the 
girl  of  his  choice,  who  would  take  her  wedding  journey 
through  the  silent  woods  and  would  become  mistress  of 
the  small  farm  whose  acres  could  be  increased  indefi- 
nitely with  little  trouble.  Therefore,  when  young  John 
McCormick  began  to  make  ready  for  his  bride,  there 
were  neighbors  enough  to  join  in  and  help  to  chop  and 
roll  the  logs,  and  next  to  raise  the  house  itself. 


THE   HOUSEWARMING  29 

Jeanie  and  Agnes  were  quite  excited  over  the  frolic, 
for,  so  far,  not  many  such  had  come  to  them.  While 
the  men  were  busy  doing  their  part  in  establishing  the 
young  couple,  the  women  of  the  community  willingly 
turned  their  attention  to  the  preparation  of  the  feast, 
though  John's  rifle  brought  in  the  bear  and  venison. 
Agnes  had  promised  to  go  over  to  help  the  M'Cleans 
do  their  part,  and  had  quite  looked  forward  to  the  day. 
She  was  hurriedly*  putting  an  end  to  her  morning's 
work  when  she  heard  a  sound  outside.  The  door  stood 
open,  and  the  September  sunshine  flooded  the  little  dim 
room.  On  a  bench  by  the  door  was  a  bowl  in  which 
were  two  or  three  squirrels  newly  skinned  and  ready  to 
be  cooked.  Agnes  meant  to  have  them  for  her  father's 
supper.  She  turned  to  get  the  bowl,  when  in  at  the 
door  was  thrust  the  muzzle  of  a  gaunt  wolf,  which,  scent- 
ing the  fresh  meat,  had  come  to  investigate.  For  a 
second  Agnes  was  paralyzed  with  fear,  and  the  next 
moment,  considering  discretion  the  better  part  of  valor, 
she  sprang  to  the  ladder  leading  to  the  loft  and  climbed 
up,  leaving  the  rifle,  which  she  knew  well  how  to  use, 
below.  The  squirrels  were  young  and  tender  and  the 
wolf  was  hungry,  so  he  made  short  work  of  them,  yet 
they  were  only  a  mouthful  and  but  whetted  his  appetite. 
Agnes,  peering  below,  saw  the  great,  ferocious  creature 
sniffing  the  ladder  and  looking  up  at  the  loft.  He  medi- 
tated an  attack.  She  tugged  at  the  ladder  and  presently 
had  it  safely  drawn  up  into  the  loft  beside  her.  There 


30  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

were  snarls  and  growls  below,  and  the  wolf  began  to 
make  fierce  springs  for  his  prey.  "  If  I  only  had  my 
rifle,"  murmured  Agnes,  "  I  would  shoot  him.  How 
fine  it  would  be  to  do  that  all  by  myself."  But  the  rifle 
was  beyond  her  reach,  and  she  began  to  feel  herself 
lucky,  as  the  wolf  leaped  higher  and  higher,  if  she  could 
keep  beyond  the  reach  of  the  sharp  fangs. 

There  was  no  trap-door  to  the  little  loft,  but  Agnes 
laid  the  ladder  across  it,  hoping  that,  though  the  rungs 
would  give  the  creature  something  to  clutch,  it  would 
perhaps  prevent  him  from  doing  more.  After  a  while 
the  leaping  ceased,  and  the  wolf,  sitting  on  his  haunches 
below  there,  snarled  and  showed  his  teeth ;  but  now 
Agnes,  being  satisfied  that  he  could  not  reach  her,  felt 
her  fear  subsiding,  and  the  situation,  instead  of  being 
exciting,  became  rather  tiresome.  She  was  missing  the 
fun  at  the  M'Cleans'.  She  wondered  how  much  longer 
she  was  to  be  kept  prisoner  by  this  ugly  creature.  He 
did  not  seem  disposed  to  go  away.  Perhaps  he  would 
keep  her  there  all  day.  Wolves  were  not  apt  to  come 
around  in  the  daytime,  especially  at  this  season,  though 
at  night  it  was  safer  to  shut  windows  and  doors  against 
them.  This  one  must  have  been  pursued  by  some 
hunter,  and  had  come  suddenly  upon  the  cabin.  Agnes 
peered  down  at  .him  from  between  the  rungs  of  the 
ladder,  and  thought  he  was  a  very  unattractive  brute 
as  he  sat  there  with  his  red  tongue  lolling  out.  "  I'd 
like  your  hide,  you  ugly  beast,"  she  said,  "  but  I  don't 


THE   HOUSEWARMING  31 

want  you  to  get  mine.  I  think  I'll  drag  my  bed  across 
the  ladder,  and  then  if  he  can't  see  me,  perhaps  he  will 
go  away." 

This  proceeding,  however,  seemed  only  to  increase 
the  wolf's  ambition  to  get  upstairs,  for  he  flung  himself 
madly  into  the  air  and  once  came  so  near  that  Agnes's 
heart  stood  still.  Yet  he  came  no  nearer,  and  the  long 
day  wore  on  —  a  doleful  day  indeed.  Agnes  could  not 
expect  any  one  to  come  to  her  assistance,  for  her  father, 
knowing  her  intention  of  going  to  the  M'Cleans',  had 
taken  his  lunch  with  him  and  had  gone  to  the  aid  of 
Johnny  McCormick,  like  the  rest  of  the  men  in  the 
settlement. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  that  Agnes  at  last  heard 
some  one  call  "  Agnes  !  Agnes  !  Nancy  Kennedy,  where 
are  you  ? "  Then  there  was  the  sudden  crack  of  a  rifle. 
The  girl  pulled  aside  the  bearskin  which  made  her  bed 
and  peeped  below.  On  the  floor  lay  the  gray  form  of 
the  wolf,  and  over  it  stood  Archie  M'Clean.  "  Agnes, 
oh,  Agnes,"  he  cried,  "  are  you  hurt  ? " 

From  above  came  the  answer :  "  No,  I  am  quite  safe. 
I'll  put  the  ladder  back  and  come  down.  I  am  so  glad 
you  have  killed  that  horrible  wolf.  He  has  kept  me  up 
here  all  day.  How  did  you  happen  to  come  ? "  she 
asked,  when  she  was  safe  by  Archie's  side. 

"  We  wondered  why  you  didn't  come  as  you  promised, 
and  Jeanie  said  she  was  afraid  something  had  happened, 
so  when  I  came  out  for  the  cows,  I  stopped  to  see." 


32  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  And  found  the  wolf.  Well,  he  has  kept  me  a  pris- 
oner all  day  besides  eating  up  my  father's  supper." 

"  Never  mind,  his  skin  will  be  very  comfortable  for 
you  on  the  floor." 

"  Oh,  but  it's  yours ;  you  killed  him." 

"  I  think  you  deserve  it,  for  you  kept  him  there  all 
day  so  I  could  kill  him  when  I  came  along." 

"  That's  one  way  of  putting  it,"  said  Agnes,  laughing. 

"  I'll  come  back  and  skin  him  for  you  when  I  have 
taken  the  cows  home.  Perhaps  I  can  shoot  something 
for  your  father's  supper,  too,  on  my  way." 

"  Oh,  never  mind  that ;  he's  sure  to  bring  home 
something,  for  he  has  gone  to  the  McCormick's  new 
house,  and  that  is  some  distance.  But  come  back,  do, 
and  help  me  get  my  supper.  I  shall  shut  the  door  and 
window  tight  after  this,  for  I  want  no  more  wolves  for 
company,  though  I'd  rather  it  were  a  wolf  than  an 
Indian." 

"Your  father  expected  that  you  were  at  our  house," 
said  Archie,  "  perhaps  you  had  better  come  with  me." 

"  I  must  get  the  cow  up  first.     Can  you  wait  ?  " 

"  Well  enough.  .  I  will  get  our  own  cows  at  the  same 
time ;  then  while  you  are  milking,  I  will  skin  the  wolf, 
and  then  we  can  go  together." 

The  tinkle  of  the  cow-bells  sounded  not  so  far  off  and 
it  was  not  long  before  Archie  and  Agnes  were  trudging 
along  side  by  side,  the  carcass  of  the  wolf  having  been 
thrown  into  the  river  and  the  hide  stretched  for  drying. 


THE  HOUSEWARMING  33 

"  And  why  didn't  you  go  to  the  house-raising  ? "  asked 
Agnes. 

"  Because  I  was  needed  at  home." 

"  What  will  they  be  doing  to-day  ?  " 

"  They'll  finish  up  the  odds  and  ends ;  make  some 
tables  and  stools  and  benches  and  get  it  ready  for 
to-morrow." 

"Then  will  come  the  housewarming.  Did  your 
mother  and  Jeanie  get  through  all  they  expected  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  they  have  a  good  feast  for  John.  I  am 
going  to  build  a  house  when  I  am  twenty-one." 

Agnes  laughed.  "  Whom  will  you  put  in  it  ? "  she 
asked  saucily. 

"  You." 

"  Archie  M 'Clean  !     How  do  you  know  you  will  ?  " 

"  I  say  I  will,"  he  replied  doggedly.  "  I've  as  good  a 
right  as  any  one  to  choose  my  girl.  I  am  eighteen,  and 
many  of  the  boys  marry  at  my  age ;  but  if  I  wait  three 
years,  you  will  be  eighteen  then." 

"Oh,  but —  No,  no,  Archie,  I'm  too  young  yet  to 
think  of  such  a  thing.  My  father  needs  me,  and  my 
mother  will  be  coming.  I'll  think  of  nobody,  of  no  lad, 
till  I  see  my  mother  again.  In  three  years  —  why,  who 
knows  ?  —  you  may  change  your  mind ;  there'll  be  many 
another  girl  in  the  settlement  by  then." 

"  And  many  another  lad,  maybe." 

"Well,  then,  so  much  the  better." 

"  I'll  not  change  my  mind,"  said  Archie.     "  I'm  not  a 

D 


34  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

great  talker,  Agnes,  but  I  know  what  I  want,  and  when 
I  make  up  my  mind  I  keep  to  it." 

"And  when  did  you  make  up  your  mind  to  build 
your  house  ? " 

"  That  day  when  I  saw  you,  when  we  were  on  the 
road  here,  and  you  were  riding  with  Jeanie  in  the  wagon. 
It  was  four  months  ago." 

"  You'll  be  telling  another  tale  four  years  from  now. 
I'm  too  young;  fifteen  isn't  old  enough  to  make  any 
promises." 

"  It's  as  old  as  my  mother  was." 

"  Maybe,  but  what  is  one  man's  meat  is  another  man's 
poison." 

"  Am  I  poison  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  that  isn't  what  I  mean.  Oh,  no  more 
nonsense,  Archie,  or  I  shall  have  to  stay  away  from  the 
housewarming,  and  that  I  do  not  want  to  do." 

They  were  within  sight  of  the  M 'Clean  cabin,  and 
Agnes  ran  on  ahead,  but,  seeing  Jeanie  standing  there, 
she  ran  back  to  Archie.  "  Don't  tell  any  one,"  she  said. 

"  Tell  what  ?     About  the  wolf  ?  " 

"  No,  about  —  about  what  you  said." 

He  nodded,  and  Agnes  knew  the  secret  was  safe. 

"  Well,  well,  why  didn't  you  come  before  ? "  asked 
Jeanie,  when  Agnes  was  within  hearing. 

"  I  couldn't ;  I  had  company." 

"  Why  didn't  you  bring  the  company  ?  They  would 
have  been  very  welcome." 


THE   HOUSEWARMING  35 

"  No,  he  wouldn't."   Agnes  shook  her  head  decidedly. 

"  Why,  Nancy  Kennedy,  you  know  he  would." 

"  I  know  he  wouldn't." 

"  What  was  his  name  ? " 

"Mr.  Wolf." 

Jeanie  looked  puzzled.  "  I  never  heard  of  him.  Is 
he  an  old  friend  ?  Did  he  come  from  Carlisle  ? " 

"  No,  he  did  live  near  here." 

"  Doesn't  he  now  ?  " 

"  No,  he's  dead."     Agnes  laughed. 

11 1  never  heard  of  such  a  thing.  What  are  you 
talking  about?  Mother,  you  never  heard  such  talk. 
Come  here  and  make  Nancy  tell  us  what  she 
means." 

Agnes  laughed  at  Jeanie's  vehemence;  then  she 
sobered  down.  "  It  was  no  laughing  matter,  I  can  tell 
you,  and  but  for  Archie  I  might  not  be  here  now."  And 
she  proceeded  to  tell  the  tale  of  her  day's  imprison- 
ment. 

"  Why,  you  must  be  half  starved ! "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
M'Clean. 

"  No ;  the  wolf  left  me  a  piece  of  johnny-cake  and  I 
drank  some  new  milk,  then  we  found  some  late  black- 
berries as  we  came  along." 

"  Well,  you  will  be  glad  of  a  good  bowl  of  hominy. 
Come  in.  Father'll  not  be  back  yet.  Here  comes 
Archie  with  the  milk-pails." 

After  her  long  day  of  solitude  it  was  good,  Agnes 


36  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

thought,  to  get  among  her  friends,  and  she  chattered 
away  like  a  magpie,  yet  she  was  conscious  of  Archie's 
gaze  fixed  upon  her,  and  she  felt  uncomfortable,  wish- 
ing he  had  left  their  free  comradeship  as  it  stood.  "I 
am  a  little  girl  still.  I  want  to  be  a  little  girl,"  she 
announced  suddenly,  "and  I  don't  believe  I  will  go  to 
the  housewarming." 

"  Nancy  Kennedy  !  Why  not  ?  "  exclaimed  Jeanie. 
"  There  will  be  other  girls  there  no  older  than  you. 
There  is  Susan  Duncan  and  Flora  Magruder,  and  even 
little  Meg  Donaldson  is  going." 

"I  know  —  but—  " 

"  No  buts  about  it.  What  a  whimsey !  Of  course 
you'll  go.  There  will  be  good  sport,  and  no  end  of 
feasting.  I  don't  see  how  you  can  think  of  staying  at 
home."  She  was  so  persistent  that  finally  Agnes  ac- 
knowledged that  it  was  but  a  sudden  whim,  and  that 
she  really  wanted  to  go. 

It  was  a  homely,  but  jolly,  little  company  which 
gathered  in  the  new  log-cabin  of  John  McCormick  to 
celebrate  the  housewarming.  The  rough  pioneers  in 
their  hunting-shirts,  leather  breeches,  and  moccasins 
were  a  manly  set  of  fellows ;  while  the  girls  in  linsey- 
woolsey  petticoats,  with  linen  bed-gowns,  a  handkerchief 
folded  across  the  breast,  their  feet  shod  in  coarse  shoe- 
packs,  were  fit  companions  for  the  sturdy  brothers, 
husbands,  and  fathers,  who  outnumbered  them.  Agnes, 
being  one  of  the  few  who  had  recently  come  from  a 


AGNES   SLIPPED  OFF  TO  A  CORNER  WHERE  JEANIE   FOUND   HER. 


THE   HOUSEWARMING  37 

more,  civilized  neighborhood,  could  boast  better  shoes 
and  a  finer  kerchief.  She  was  shy,  however,  and  kept 
close  to  Polly  O'Neill,  until  that  lively  body  joined  some 
gossiping  friends,  and  then  Agnes  slipped  off  to  a 
corner  where  Jeanie  joined  her,  and  together  they 
watched  the  scene. 

"  Ah,  but  Polly  is  a  romp ;  I'd  fain  have  her  agility," 
said  Jeanie,  admiringly. 

Agnes  laughed  as  Polly  belabored  a  stout  lad  who 
captured  her  in  a  rollicking  game,  but  she  yawned  the 
next  minute  and  said :  "  I'm  sleepy.  Does  one  have  to 
stay  up  all  night  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  yes.  You'll  have  no  chance  to  sleep.  We 
shall  have  to  hang  on  till  morning  or  they  will  hunt  us 
out  and  parade  us  up  and  down  the  floor.  Here  is 
something  to  waken  you  up.  Supper  is  ready." 

Agnes  rose  with  alacrity,  and  the  company  trooped  to 
the  table  which  was  nothing  more  than  a  slab  of  wood 
supported  by  four  round  legs  set  in  auger  holes.  It 
was  set  with  bent  and  dented  pewter  ware,  rude 
wooden  bowls,  and  trenchers.  A  few  pewter  and  horn 
spoons,  but  no  knives  were  visible ;  the  men  used  their 
hunting-knives  which  they  drew  from  a  sheath  hanging 
from  their  hunting-belts. 

But  hardly  had  they  begun  to  attack  the  venison  and 
bearmeat,  the  roasted  corn,  and  johnny-cakes,  before 
the  door  was  flung  open  and  an  express  whispered 
hoarsely,  "  Indians !  " 


38  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

Agnes  clutched  Jeanie.  "  Where  is  my  father  ? "  she 
whispered.  "  Oh,  what  shall  we  do  ?  " 

"To  the  blockhouse!"  The  word  was  passed;  then 
quickly  lights  were  extinguished,  and  creeping  slowly 
along  in  the  darkness  the  whole  company  started  forth, 
not  knowing  what  moment  the  terrible  yell  of  an  Indian 
would  startle  them,  or  whether  they  could  reach  their 
refuge  unhurt.  Every  one  was  silent  as  death.  The 
dreaded  word  "  Indians ! "  silenced  even  the  smallest 
child  who,  clinging  to  its  mother,  understood  something 
of  the  terror  which  inspired  the  older  ones. 

Close  by  Agnes's  side  strode  Archie.  "They  shall 
kill  me  before  they  take  you,"  he  whispered. 

But  there  was  no  need  for  his  heroics,  for  once 
within  the  blockhouse  they  were  safe,  the  Indians 
rarely  attacking  these  little  forts.  It  was  found,  how- 
ever, that  all  were  not  gathered  in  the  retreat,  and  that 
those  who,  for  one  reason  or  another,  had  not  been  at 
the  housewarming  were  in  danger. 

"  My  father  was  off  hunting,"  said  Agnes,  pitifully. 
"  He  does  not  care  for  frolics,  you  know.  Oh,  if  the 
Indians  have  found  him,  what  shall  I  do  ? " 

"Never  fear,  my  lass,"  Polly  tried  to  reassure  her. 
"  I've  no  doubt  he  is  hiding,  and  when  the  redskins  go 
off,  he'll  come  in  safe  and  sound." 

This  was  comforting,  but  still  Agnes  had  her  fears  as 
one  after  another  of  the  stragglers  crept  back  to  the 
fort,  each  with  some  new  report.  "Tell  us  your 


THE  HOUSEWARMING  39 

news,  Sandy,"  were  the  words  which  greeted  the  last 
comer. 

"  The  Indians  are  burning  and  plundering  the  cabins," 
he  told  them.  "  I  sneaked  around  through  the  woods 
and  got  here  safely.  I  don't  think  there  are  many  of 
them,  just  a  small  raiding  party.  They  have  made  a 
dash,  and  will  be  off  again  presently.  They'll  not  attack 
the  fort." 

"  Did  you  see  my  father  ? "  Agnes  asked  fearfully. 

The  man  was  silent  a  moment,  then  he  answered  :  "  I 
left  him  an  hour  since  on  his  way  here.  Hasn't  he 
come  ? " 

"  No ;  oh,  no." 

"  Then  he's  likely  laying  low.  Don't  fret,  my  lass ; 
he'll  be  coming  along  after  a  while." 

With  the  rising  of  the  sun  the  Indians  disappeared. 
They  were  too  few  in  number  to  attack  the  fort,  and  had 
counted  on  surprising  the  inhabitants  of  the  little  settle- 
ment in  their  homes.  Fortunately  most  of  them  were 
at  the  housewarming,  and  those  who  were  not  present 
were  warned  in  time  to  escape.  The  little  hunting  party, 
of  which  Fergus  Kennedy  was  one,  were  the  only  per- 
sons in  real  danger,  and  of  the  number  all  had  now 
returned  but  two.  But  many  of  the  little  cabins  were 
burned  to  the  ground  and  the  cattle  slain. 

At  the  return  of  her  husband  who  had  gone  out  to 
reconnoitre,  and  who  returned  with  the  news  that  all 
was  quiet,  Polly  looked  around  at  the  buckets  of  water 


40  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

which  she  had  lugged  in,  and  exclaimed :  "  Well,  I 
needn't  a'  put  my  stren'th  in  thim  buckets.  I'd  better 
saved  it." 

"  But  suppose  the  Indians  had  come  and  had  tried  to 
fire  the  blockhouse,"  said  Jeanie. 

"  Ah,  but  there's  no  supposin' ;  they  didn't." 

"  But  we  have  to  be  prepared,  and  we  were  all  glad  to 
have  something  to  do  in  an  hour  of  peril,"  said  Mrs. 
M'Clean,  "though  I,  for  one,  have  no  pleasure  in  con- 
stant alarm.  I  am  for  going  to  a  more  settled-up  place. 
I'm  willing  to  move  on  if  my  man  gives  the  word.  I 
mistrusted  we  were  too  far  from  ceevilization." 

"  Ay,  ay !  ye  may  feel  that  a  ways,"  returned  Polly, 
"  but  I'll  no  let  the  pesky  critturs  get  the  best  o'  me,  and 
I'll  not  move  on  fur  'em.  Here  I  bide.  I  am  as  good  a 
shot  as  they  are,  an'  one  can  die  but  wanst." 

"  Ay,  but  it's  not  the  dying ;  it's  the  being  carried  off 
from  home  and  kin,  and  having  your  babies  murdered 
before  your  eyes,  and  your  husband  tortured  in  your 
presence." 

"  Sh !  "  whispered  Polly,  for  there  was  Agnes  at  her 
elbow,  eyes  wide  open  with  fear  and  cheeks  pale.  "  I'm 
not  scared,"  Polly  went  on  valiantly,  with  a  nod  to 
Agnes.  "We've  the  good  strong  blockhouse,  and  we 
can  bide  here  till  the  cabin's  built  again,  if  so  be  it  is 
burnded,  which  I'm  not  so  certain  it  is,  an'  we're  as  safe 
wan  place  as  anither.  Those  that's  born  to  be  drownded 
will  niver  get  hung,  sez  I,"  she  went  on  with  a  true 


THE  HOUSEWARMING  41 

Presbyterian  belief  in  the  doctrine  of  predestination, 
"an'  if  I'm  kilt  entirely  by  a  tomahawk,  sure  I'll  not  die 
of  the  pox,  an'  the  former's  the  speedier.  I  may  lose 
me  hair  but  not  me  beauty." 

"I'd  rather  keep  both  if  I  can,"  returned  Mrs. 
M'Clean,  laughing. 

Polly  grinned.  v  "  Sure,  ye'll  have  little  trubble  kapin' 
what  ye've  not  got,"  she  replied  saucily.  At  which 
Mrs.  M'Clean  took  her  by  the  shoulders  and  shook  her 
so  hard  that  Polly's  mass  of  black  hair  tumbled  down  in 
a  big  coil  to  her  knees.  She  gathered  it  up  in  both 
hands,  and  put  it  back  under  her  cap,  laughing  at  Mrs. 
M'Clean's  look.  "Eh,  Jean,"  she  said,  "I'm  thinkin' 
ye'll  not  be  likely  to  lose  yer  scalp ;  there's  so  little  hair 
ye  hev  to  take  a  holt  on." 

"  You're  a  saucy  creature,  Polly,"  Mrs.  M'Clean 
replied.  "  I've  not  your  crop  on  my  head,  I  know,  but 
neither  have  I  so  much  on  my  lip."  Polly's  mouth  was 
ornamented  by  quite  a  visible  mustache,  and  the  laugh 
was  against  her,  so  she  gave  in  cheerfully  and  turned  away. 

Seeing  Agnes  standing  aloof  with  mournful  eyes,  she 
went  up  to  her  and  took  her  in  her  arms.  "We're  a 
thriflin'  set,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "  but  it's  the  relief  to  the 
moind  and  the  cessaytion  of  worriment  that  makes  one 
so  light.  An*  yer  in  trubble,  but  don't  ye  give  up  whilst 
there's  a  loophole.  Manny  a  one's  been  carried  off  and 
has  escaped,  afther  years  sometimes,  so  I'd  not  mourn 
yet." 


42  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  Ah  !  but,  Polly,  if  he's  been  killed  or  taken  prisoner, 
what  shall  I  do  ? " 

"  Ye've  twenty  or  more  homes  waitin'  fur  ye,  an'  ye 
kin  begin  with  mine,  an'  stay  there  till  ye  weary  av  it, 
thin  move  on  to  the  next."  She  indicated  the  direction 
of  her  dwelling  by  a  toss  of  her  head.  "  It's  still  standin', 
I'm  told,  and  back  we'll  go." 

"  But  if  the  Indians  come  again." 

"  They'll  not  at  wance,  I'm  sure.  They  know  we're 
too  many  fur  'em.  But  if  ye'd  rather  stay  here  in  the 
fort,  suit  yoursel',  and  we'll  all  be  pleased." 

"  I  think  I'll  stay  here,"  Agnes  replied  after  a  mo- 
ment's thought,  "  for  it  is  here  father  would  come  first." 

"  Ye've  hit  the  nail  on  the  head.  To  be  sure  he 
would,  but  ye  know  ye're  welcome  to  my  last  bite  and 
sup." 

"  Indeed  I  do,  you  good  Polly.  You  are  a  real  com- 
fort." At  which  speech  Polly  wiped  her  eyes  on  her 
sleeve,  for  her  transitions  from  laughter  to  tears  were 
generally  as  sudden  as  the  opposite. 


CHAPTER   III 

A  SEARCH 

THAT  evening  Polly  returned  to  her  own  home, 
but  the  M'Cleans  remained  at  the  fort,  and  the 
next  day  Jeanie  told  Agnes  that  her  mother  was  bent 
upon  going  nearer  to  the  settlement  of  Marietta,  that, 
now  their  cabin  was  burned  and  all  their  stock  killed, 
they  would  be  better  off  if  they  went  farther  on. 

"Near  Marietta?"  exclaimed  Agnes.  "That  is 
where  we  were  to  have  gone.  If  my  father  were  only 
here,  we  might  go  with  you  and  search  out  the  land 
belonging  to  my  grandfather;  then  we  could  send 
for  my  mother."  She  was  silent  a  moment.  "  I 
think,"  she  continued  slowly,  "  I  will  do  it,  anyhow, 
as  soon  as  —  as  we  know  the  worst  about  my  father." 

"  You  do  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  why  not  ? " 

"  How  could  you  do  it  alone  ? " 

"  I  could  get  some  one  to  help  me.  I  would  never 
be  satisfied  to  stay  here  by  myself,  and  how  could  I 
go  back  to  my  mother  and  tell  her  there  was  no  home 
in  the  wide  world  for  her  and  the  children  ?  There 

43 


44  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

are  many  coming  out  this  way,  but  few  going 
back." 

"That  is  true.  Why  don't  you  talk  to  my  father 
about  it?" 

"  I  will,"  and  that  very  evening  she  told  Mr.  M'Clean 
the  story. 

"It  might  be  worth  while,"  he  said,  "though  per- 
haps it  would  not.  Land  is  plentiful,  and  if  there 
should  be  any  trouble,  I  would  not  advise  you  to  get 
into  it." 

"  I  know  land  is  plentiful,  but  this  is  a  cleared  farm, 
with  a  good  house  on  it.  My  grandfather  was  killed 
by  the  Indians,  and  this  is  his  place  which  now  belongs 
to  my  mother,  to  be  had  for  the  taking." 

"  Then  come  with  us,  and  I  will  help  you  to  your 
rights  if  it  is  to  be  done." 

"  But  my  father  —  if  he  should  come  back  ?" 

Joseph  M'Clean  laid  his  hand  gently  upon  the 
child's  auburn  hair.  "  Ye  can  scarce  expect  it,  for 
we've  searched  for  him  and  he's  not  to  be  found." 

Agnes  choked  back  the  sob  that  rose  in  her  throat. 
"I  know,"  she  said  bravely,  "but  I  am  not  going  to 
give  up  hope.  He  may  be  lying  wounded  somewhere, 
and  I  am  going  to  look  for  him  myself.  I  feel  sure  I 
could  find  him  if  he  is  to  be  found." 

"  Ye're  a  brave  lass,  Nancy,"  said  the  man,  his  own 
eyes  moist.  "  I'll  go  with  ye,  lass.  It's  a  rough  coun- 
try we're  in,  and  ye  are  not  to  go  alone.  We'll  start 


A   SEARCH  45 

another  search  for  your  father,  for  maybe,  as  you  say, 
he's  wounded  and  can't  get  here  by  himself." 

Agnes  looked  up  at  him  gratefully,  for  his  was  the 
first  encouragement  she  had  received  that  day. 

"  It'll  be  a  rough  tramp  for  ye,  and  maybe  a  danger- 
ous one,"  said  Jimmy  O'Neill  the  next  day,  as  he  saw 
Agnes  ready  to  accompany  the  search  party.  "  There's 
Archie  and  Joe  M'Clean  besides  mesel',  and  we'll  not 
lave  a  stone  unturned." 

"  But  I  must  go,"  Agnes  returned  wistfully.  "  If  you 
should  find  him,  I  would  know  that  much  sooner  by 
being  with  you.  I'm  not  afraid,  and  I  am  a  good 
walker.  I've  travelled  many  a  mile  a-foot  when 
father  and  I  were  coming  here." 

Jimmy  looked  at  Mr.  M'Clean,  who  nodded  as  if  in 
agreement,  and  said :  "  Weel,  if  ye  grow  weary,  we  can 
send  you  back  with  Archie,  so  we'll  let  you  go,  lass, 
and  may  God  direct  us,"  he  added  piously. 

Through  the  dim,  deep  forest  they  took  their  way, 
following  such  trails  as  they  could  find,  and  noticing 
the  turn  of  a  leaf,  a  broken  twig,  and  those  clews 
which  only  a  woodsman  would  look  for.  The  two 
men  stalked  on  ahead,  rifles  on  shoulder.  Agnes  and 
Archie  followed,  their  moccasined  feet  treading  the 
shining  leaves  pressed  down  by  the  footsteps  of  the 
Indian  raiders.  The  summer  was  over  and  the  settlers 
had  thought  themselves  safe  from  Indian  raids,  but 
when  the  warm  hazy  weather  which  November  so 


46  A   GENTLE  PIONEER 

often  brings  had  come  upon  them,  it  was  a  favorable 
time  for  the  Indians  to  sally  forth  again,  bent  upon 
plunder.  For  this  reason  this  late  mild  weather  was 
called  "Indian  summer."  They  followed  the  trail 
for  some  time,  Agnes's  eyes  alert  as  any  to  discover 
anything  which  might  suggest  a  possibility  of  her 
father's  near  presence. 

Suddenly  she  gave  a  quick  exclamation.  Sticking 
to  a  bramble  by  the  side  of  the  way  was  a  bit  of  fur. 
The  men  came  to  an  immediate  halt  at  the  sound  of 
her  voice.  "  See ! "  she  cried.  "It  is  a  bit  of  some 
one's  coonskin  cap."  She  examined  the  edges  as  she 
plucked  it  from  the  thorny  bush. 

"  It  has  been  shot  away,"  said  Archie,  as  intent  as 
she  upon  the  clew. 

"  You're  sure  it  is  not  the  skin  of  some  creature  shot 
by  some  one  ?  "  Agnes  asked  anxiously. 

"  No,  it  is  dressed  skin,  not  freshly  killed,"  said 
Archie. 

They  glanced  around.  A  little  farther  on  was  a 
shallow  brook,  on  the  borders  of  which  there  were 
trampled  weeds,  as  if  some  large  body  had  passed 
through.  Agnes  looked  with  imploring,  questioning 
eyes  at  Jimmy  O'Neill  as  he  raised  himself  up  after 
an  examination  of  the  spot.  "It's  worth  following," 
he  said  in  reply.  "We'll  go  upstream  a  ways." 

Agnes  at  the  word  dashed  on  ahead,  unheeding  the 
brambles  or  the  sharp  boughs  which  lashed  her  face 


A   SEARCH  47 

at  every  step.  Archie,  with  long  strides,  kept  close 
behind  her,  and  was  by  her  side  when  suddenly  she 
swooped  down  with  a  cry,  in  which  joy  and  fear 
were  mingled,  and  gathered  up  in  her  arms  the  head 
of  a  man  lying  as  still  as  death  by  the  brookside. 
"Father!  Father!"  cried  the  girl.  "Speak  to  me! 
Oh,  he  can't  be  dead !  Archie !  Archie !  tell  me  he 
is  not."  She  chafed  the  cold  hands,  and  laid  her 
cheek  against  the  quiet  face. 

"  She's  found  him  !  "  cried  Archie,  as  his  father  came 
up.  "But  I  think  he's  dead,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice. 
Joseph  M'Clean  was  on  his  knees  by  the  man's  side 
in  a  moment,  and  was  pouring  some  spirits  between 
the  clenched  teeth. 

Presently  there  was  the  faintest  movement.  "  He  is 
alive  !  alive  ! "  cried  Agnes.  "  Oh,  how  thankful  I  am  !  " 

"He's  alive,  sure  enough,"  said  Jimmy  O'Neill,  "but 
begorry !  I  thought  him  clane  gone  whin  I  clapped  me 
eyes  on  him.  Give  him  a  drop  more  from  Black  Betty, 
Archie,  and  he'll  be  comin'  'round."  True  enough  in 
a  few  minutes  Fergus  Kennedy  opened  his  eyes  with 
a  bewildered  stare  and  attempted  to  sit  up,  but  he 
dropped  back  again  too  weak  for  the  effort. 

"We'll  make  a  litter  of  boughs  and  get  him  home 
all  right,"  Agnes  was  assured,  and  very  soon  the  little 
procession  was  ready  to  start  back  to  the  settlement, 
Agnes  insisting  upon  helping  to  carry  a  part  of  the 
burden. 


48  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

For  many  days  her  father  lay  in  a  stupor,  and  even 
when  roused,  he  was  not  able  to  remember  anything  of 
the  Indian  attack. 

"I  surmise,"  said  Joseph  M'Clean,  "that  the  Indians 
fired  on  him,  and  that  the  bullet  took  away  a  piece  of 
his  cap  and  gave  him  that  wound  in  the  head.  He  was 
able  to  keep  up  for  a  while,  but  after  he  grew  weaker, 
he  crept  off  into  the  bushes  where  we  found  him." 

"  I  don't  see  how  he  escaped  the  wild  animals  even 
if  he  got  away  from  the  Indians,"  said  Agnes. 

"  Likely  he  climbed  a  tree  at  first  .and  kept  in  hiding 
from  both  beasts  and  redskins.  The  wound  brought 
on  a  fever,  and  he  tried  to  get  to  the  water  and  was 
too  weak  and  ill  to  move  again.  That's  how  I  sum  it  up." 

"  My  father  was  ever  a  quiet  man,  but  he  is  more 
so  now,"  Agnes  told  her  friends.  And,  indeed,  it 
seemed  hard  to  arouse  him  from  his  lethargy  when 
his  wound  was  actually  healed.  He  would  do  patiently 
enough  anything  that  he  was  told  to  do,  but  seemed 
unable  to  plan  for  himself. 

"He'll  get  better  after  a  while,"  Agnes  always  said 
cheerfully,  "  but  I  think  he'll  get  well  quicker  if  we  go 
somewhere  else.  He  seems  to  dread  going  to  the 
woods,  and  trembles  if  you  mention*  the  Indians.  I 
don't  understand  it,  for  he  was  always  so  brave." 

"  One  can't  account  for  the  strange  ways  of  a  body 
hurt,"  said  Mrs.  M'Clean.  "Maybe  it  would  be  best 
that  you  take  him  back  home." 


A  SEARCH  49 

"  We  haven't  any  home,"  Agnes  replied  sorrowfully. 
"You  know  father  had  to  give  up  the  farm;  it  was 
sold  after  grandfather  died,  and  father  had  only  his 
share  of  what  it  brought.  Mother  is  with  her  cousin 
till  we  make  a  home  out  here  for  her.  You  know  we 
started  to  go  to  a  place  already  cleared  and  with  a  good 
house  on  it.  I  wonder  if  it  is  very  far.  It  is  near  the 
Putnam  Colony." 

"  That  is  where  we  are  thinking  of  travelling." 

"Then  —  " 

"  You  could  go  .with  us  ?  Indeed  and  you  could. 
We  are  going  to  start  before  the  river  is  frozen  over, 
and  while  there  is  not  like  to  be  any  danger  from  the 
Indians." 

Agnes  nodded.  The  plan  suited  her  very  well,  and 
she  felt  that  it  was  happening  very  fortunately  for  her. 

So  in  a  few  days  Polly  O'Neill,  the  Fergusons,  the 
McCormicks,  and  the  rest  of  their  friends  watched 
Joseph  M 'Clean's  broadhorn  as  it  started  down  the 
river,  and  there  was  a  great  waving  of  good-bys  from 
the  shore.  It  was  not  a  very  merry  parting,  never- 
theless, for  it  was  very  uncertain  if  these  who  remained 
would  ever  again  meet  those  who  went. 

"  It's  sorry  I  am  to  leave  Polly  O'Neill,"  said  Jeanie. 

"  She'll  be  following  us  if  the  Indians  trouble  them 
again,"  Agnes  returned. 

"  She  likes  to  be  on  the  move,  does  Polly,  and  doesn't 
mind  lugging  about  her  babies  with  her  wherever  she 


50  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

goes.  She'll  roll  the  little  baby  up  in  a  bearskin,  and 
leave  the  next  older,  sucking  his  thumb,  to  watch  the 
baby  while  Polly  herself  goes  off  to  dance  an  Irish  jig. 
Oh,  but  she's  a  funny  Polly." 

"  She  is  that,  and  I  am  loath  to  leave  her." 

"But  I  was  so  pleased  when  father  said  you  were 
coming  with  us,"  said  Jeanie,  "  and  some  one  else  was 
pleased,  too." 

"Who?     Your  mother?" 

"No,  Miss  Innocence;  it  was  Archie.  I  shall  like 
you  for  a  sister,  Nancy.  Doesn't  Archie  grow  to  be 
a  tall  fine  lad  ?  Eighteen,  and  six  feet  tall.  He'll  not 
be  long  finding  you  a  home." 

"  That's  nonsense,"  Agnes  replied  sharply.  "  I've 
no  time  to  think  of  such  things.  I've  my  father  to 
think  of  this  long  while  yet,  and  when  my  mother 
comes,  I'll  not  want  to  leave  her  for  a  good  bit." 
__m"  Ah  but  there's  no  harm  in  talking  of  it.  Archie 
has  his  eye  for  you  and  no  one  else." 

"  But  we  are  going  to  another  place,  and  there  may 
be  a  dozen  girls  he  would  like  better,  so  we'll  not  be 
talking  of  it  yet,  but  of  some  possible  lad  for  you, 
Jeanie.  I'll  describe  him  to  you.  He's  no  so  tall,  for 
you  are  of  a  good  height,  and  of  course  will  not  marry 
a  tall  man." 

"  Ah,  but  I  will." 

"  Hush,  just  wait  till  I  make  my  description.  He 
has  sandy  hair,  for  your  hair  and  eyes  are  dark,  and 


A   SEARCH  51 

he's  a  quiet  fellow,  for  you  are  lively.  Now,  we  shall 
see.  I  will  point  him  out  to  you  as  soon  as  I  meet 
him." 

"  Law,  Agnes,  you  make  me  feel  creepy.  One  would 
think  you  were  a  witch." 

"  I'm  no  witch,  then,  but  I've  just  common  sense. 
But  did  you  hear  how  old  Mother  Martin  was  treated  ? 
The  good  old  soul  went  to  borrow  a  suppin'  of  milk 
from  Martha  Mackin,  and  would  she  let  her  have  it  ? 
At  last  she  said,  '  I'll  give  it  to  you,  but  I'll  not  lend 
it,'  and  it  all  but  broke  Mother  Martin's  heart  to  have 
her  say  that." 

"And  why?" 

"  Don't  you  know  ?  Why,  Martha's  baby  had  fits, 
and  she  accused  good  old  Mother  Martin  of  working 
a  spell  on  the  child,  because  Mother  Martin  was  over 
there  when  the  spell  came  on,  and  you  know  then 
Martha  tried  to  put  a  spell  on  Mother  Martin,  and  she 
could  only  get  it  off  by  borrowing  something  if  she 
had  been  a  witch." 

"And  was  Mother  Martin  really  a  witch  ?" 

"  No,  of  course  not.  No  one  believed  it  of  her.  She 
is  a  good  old  woman,  and  the  minister  said  it  was  but 
spleen  and  ignorance  that  made  Martha  Mackin  think 
so.  But  it  didn't  distress  Mother  Martin  any  the 
less." 

With  such  chatter  did  the  girls  pass  the  day  as  the 
boat  floated  down  the  river.  Well  wrapped  in  furs  they 


52  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

kept  fairly  comfortable,  yet  they  were  not  sorry  when 
their  journey  was  ended  and  they  started  for  the  new 
lands,  the  girls  full  of  talk,  but  the  men  silent  and 
watchful.  They  had  little  to  begin  the  world  with,  for 
their  ruined  cabins  had  held  most  of  their  belongings, 
but  with  an  axe  and  a  rifle  the  frontiersman  felt  himself 
sufficiently  well  equipped  to  face  his  future. 

The  settlement  to  which  they  were  going  was  much 
larger  than  the  one  they  had  left,  and  there  were  will- 
ing hands  to  help  them,  therefore  a  new  log-cabin  was 
not  long  in  being  erected.  Then  came  the  question  to 
Agnes  of  what  would  be  best  for  her  and  her  father. 
It  was  hard  to  arouse  him  sufficiently  to  take  an  active 
interest  in  their  affairs,  and  Agnes,  too  proud  to  be 
dependent  upon  their  good  friends,  at  last  determined 
to  strike  out  for  herself  and  discover  how  matters  stood 
with  reference  to  her  grandfather's  land.  She  had 
mentioned  the  subject  once  or  twice  to  Mr.  M' Clean, 
but  he  had  replied,  "  Plenty  of  time  yet,"  and  the  girl 
felt  that  she  ought  not  to  expect  him  to  leave  his  own 
important  work  to  attend  to  her  affairs.  The  country 
around  was  well  cleared,  and  she  would  herself  make 
inquiries  and  go  to  find  out  about  this  land.  She  would 
make  her  plans  before  she  told  any  one.  It  hurt  her 
that  her  father  should  be  so  indifferent,  and  yet  she 
was  vaguely  aware  that  he  could  not  help  it.  For  this 
very  reason  she  yearned  to  get  him  off  to  a  home  of 
their  own,  and  then  send  for  her  mother.  Together 


A  SEARCH  53 

they  could  take  the  helm  and  could  protect  him  from 
any  outside  criticism  till  he  was  well  again. 

"  That's  what  mother  would  tell  me  to  do,"  she  told 
herself.  "  Father  will  do  anything  he  is  told,  but  he 
cannot  think  for  himself,  poor  father." 

It  was  with  this  thought  on  her  mind  that  she  made 
her  inquiries  concerning  her  grandfather's  farm.  It 
was  to  old  Dod  Hunter  that  she  put  her  questions.  He 
was  the  earliest  settler  in  the  neighborhood,  and  knew 
every  one.  He  was  always  on  hand  to  welcome  a  new- 
comer, and  was  not  slow  in  making  the  acquaintance 
of  the  M'Cleans  and  the  Kennedys. 

He  was  starting  for  home  one  day  when  Agnes  way- 
laid him  on  the  edge  of  the  wood.  "  I  want  to  talk  to 
you,  Mr.  Hunter,"  she  said;  "can  you  stop  a  minute?" 

He  leaned  his  rifle  against  a  tree,  folded  his  arms 
and  looked  her  up  and  down.  "  I  reckon  I  kin  spare  ye 
a  few  minutes,"  he  made  answer.  "What's  the  talk?" 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  the  Muirhead  place?" 

"  Yes,  I  know  it." 

"  What  sort  of  a  place  is  it  ?  " 

"  Pretty  good  ;  well  cleared  and  has  a  first-rate  house 
on  it." 

"Good!" 

He  looked  at  her  sharply.     "  What's  that  to  you  ?" 

"  It  is  a  great  deal  to  me.  I  suppose  somebody  is  on 
the  place  ?  It  has  been  kept  up  ? " 

"Somebody's  there." 


54  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

"  And  takes  good  care  of  it  ?  " 

"Good  enough." 

"  Will  you  take  me  there,  Mr.  Hunter  ? " 

"What  for?" 

"  I  have  to  go." 

"I'll  take  ye  if  ye  hev  to  go,  but  my  advice  is  to  stay 
away." 

"  Oh,  but  I  can't  do  that.  You  see  father  isn't  quite 
—  isn't  quite  himself,  and  I  have  to  take  the  lead." 

Dod  Hunter  gave  a  slow  smile.  "Yer  a  big  hefty 
crittur  to  talk  o'  takin'  the  lead.  That's  for  us  men 
folks." 

"  It  would  be  all  right  if  father  were  well,"  Agnes  per- 
sisted. "  Sometimes  a  woman  can  do  a  good  deal. 
At  any  rate  I  want  to  go  to  the  Muirhead  place  and 
see  what  it  is  like.  Is  it  far  from  here  ?  Is  it  near  to 
where  you  live  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  next  place  to  me." 

"  That's  good,  too.     When  can  I  go  ? " 

"Lemme  see  —  I'm  comin'  this  way  agin  to-morrow, 
an'  I'll  start  back  bright  and  airly  the  next  mornin' ; 
ye  could  go  then  ef  ye  want." 

"  How  far  is  it  ?  " 

"  A  matter  of  twelve  mile  or  so." 

"  Do  you  think  they  will  let  me  stay  there  —  the 
people,  the  tenants  —  till  I  can  get  back  here  ? " 

"  I  wouldn't  advise  ye  to  try  it.  Ye'd  better  come 
back  to  my  place  when  ye  git  through  at  Muirhead's. 


A  SEARCH  55 

Debby,  my  wife'll  be  glad  to  hev  ye.  I'll  send  one  o' 
the  boys  arter  ye.  No,  ye'd  better  not  conclude  to  stay 
at  Muirhead's." 

"  Very  well.  I  can  settle  my  business  there  in 
short  order,  I  have  no  doubt.  Thank  you,  Mr. 
Hunter." 

"  I'm  plain  Dod — er  —  Uncle  Dod  ef  ye  like.  I'm  no 
mister." 

"Very  well,  then  I  will  call  you  Uncle  Dod." 

"  I  don't  say  I  hold  to  young  gals  travellin'  around 
through  the  country  in  a  wild-goose  fashion,  but  if  ye 
go  with  me,  I'll  guarantee  I'll  return  you  safe." 

"It  isn't  a  wild-goose  fashion.  It's  for  father  and 
mother  and  the  children,"  returned  Agnes,  earnestly. 
"You  see  —  you  know  father  forgets  and  gets  so  be- 
wildered, he  couldn't  do  it,  and  I  can.  I  think  it  will 
be  all  right.  I  don't  see  why  it  shouldn't." 

Indeed,  to  walk  up  and  claim  her  grandfather's  prop- 
erty seemed  the  easiest  matter  in  the  world  to  the  girl 
in  her  simplicity.  She  knew  her  father  held  a  copy 
of  the  deed ;  he  carried  it  around  with  him  in  his 
clumsy  leather  pocket-book.  She  could  easily  get  it, 
and  with  that  in  her  possession  the  rest  seemed  plain 
sailing.  There  was  no  need  to  trouble  any  one  to  help 
her.  All  were  busy  with  their  own  affairs.  The 
M'Cleans  had  all  they  could  do  to  get  their  own  work 
done,  and  why  ask  them  to  stop  to  attend  to  hers  ?  She 
had  a  thought  of  confiding  in  Archie  and  getting  him 


56  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

to  go  with  her,  but  she  decided  she  would  better  not, 
since  he  was  needed  at  home. 

So  she  simply  told  her  friends  and  her  father  that 
she  was  going  home  with  Dod  Hunter  and  would  be 
back  soon. 

Jeanie  looked  at  her  in  surprise.  "Why,  what  do 
you  want  to  go  with  him  for  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  I  want  to.  He  knows  all  the  country  here- 
abouts, and  we  must  look  around  if  we  are  going  to 
settle  here." 

"  Yes,  but  why  not  come  in  here  next  to  us  ? " 
"  Because  —  oh,  I  will  tell  you  when  I  get  back." 
It  was  nearly  noon  the  next  day  before  Dod  Hunter 
drew  rein  before  a  stout  dwelling  in  the  woods.  The 
drive  of  twelve  miles  had  lengthened  to  fifteen  over 
roads  such  as  one  could  scarcely  imagine  could  exist 
and  be  travelled  upon.  Conversation  had  not  been 
carried  on  with  much  spirit,  although  Agnes  had  gained 
from  the  old  man  considerable  information  about  the 
country  and  the  methods  of  its  people.  The  girl's 
brightness  and  quick  interest  evidently  won  her  a  good 
opinion,  for,  as  they  neared  the  Muirhead  place,  the 
grave  driver  turned  to  the  girl  at  his  side  and  said : 
"  It  ain't  none  o'  my  business  why  you're  here,  Nancy 
Kennedy.  I've  no  right  to  advise  ye,  but  I  think  ye'd 
better  go  back.  But  if  ye  do  conclude  to  hang  on 
and  matters  go  hard  with  ye,  I'm  not  far  away.  I  don't 
name  no  names,  but  there's  hard  customers  for  folks 


A   SEARCH  57 

to  deal  with  around  here,  and  it's  well  ye  should  know 
ye  hev  a  friend  at  hand.  If  you  want  to  come  out  as 
soon  as  ye  get  in,  I'll  be  waitin'  by  this  tree." 

"You  are  very  good,  Uncle  Dod,"  Agnes  returned 
smiling.  "  You  don't  give  me  much  encouragement, 
do  you  ?  I  think  I  shall  stay  till  I  have  finished  what 
I  have  to  say.  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  just  the 
same."  She  clambered  down  from  her  place,  and  went 
bravely  toward  the  house,  it  must  be  confessed  with 
some  slight  feeling  of  trepidation.  Just  what  she  had 
to  fear,  she  could  not  guess,  but  Dod  Hunter  had 
succeeded  in  arousing  a  feeling  which  was  the  opposite 
of  assurance.  For  one  moment  she  hesitated  and 
looked  back  to  where  the  old  man  was  waiting  for 
her,  then  she  shook  her  head  and  said,  half  aloud, 
"  There  is  nothing  in  the  world  to  be  afraid  of  !  "  and 
on  she  marched. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE  UNEXPECTED 

THE  sharp  bark  of  a  dog  announced  the  arrival 
of  a  stranger.  One  or  two  tow-headed  children 
peeped  around  the  corner  of  the  house  and  then  ran 
away.  Agnes  stood  still  for  a  moment  and  then  knocked 
peremptorily  at  the  door.  One  of  the  children  opened 
it  shyly,  and  Agnes  entered.  The  house  held  four 
rooms  and  a  lean-to.  The  principal  room  downstairs  was 
utilized  as  a  living-room ;  from  the  adjoining  apartment 
came  odors  of  cooking.  "  Say  that  Agnes  Kennedy  is 
here,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  confidence  of  manner  which 
showed  that  she  did  not  mean  to  take  a  rebuff. 

There  was  a  consultation  in  the  back  room  and 
presently  a  tall  muscular  man  entered.  "  Who  might 
you  be,  and  what  do  you  want?"  he  asked.  There 
was  a  resolute,  uncompromising  expression  on  his 
face  which  would  have  intimidated  a  less  courageous 
girl. 

"  I  am  Agnes  Kennedy,  the  daughter  of  the  owner 
of  this  place.  My  mother  sent  a  letter  to  the  tenant,  — 
I  suppose  you  are  he,  —  but  perhaps  you  never  received 

58 


THE  UNEXPECTED  59 

it.  I  know  it  is  not  easy  to  get  letters  to  such  an  out- 
of-the-way  place." 

The  man  eyed  her  sharply.  "  No  letter  came  for 
me.  Who  says  you  own  this  place  ? " 

"  My  mother  owns  it  because  it  was  her  father's.  I 
have  the  deed  for  it.  It  was  my  grandfather's  property 
for  years." 

"  Who  was  your  grandfather  ?  " 

"  My  mother  is  the  only  child  of  Humphrey  Muir- 
head." 

"  Who  is  your  mother  ?  " 

"  My  mother  was  Margaret  Muirhead  of  Carlisle ;  she 
married  my  father,  Fergus  Kennedy.  Her  father  was 
killed  by  the  Indians.  You  have  a  right  to  ask  me  all 
these  questions,  and  I  will  tell  you  that  after  my  grand- 
father died,  it  was  found  that  he  did  not  leave  anything 
of  any  account  except  this  place.  My  mother  wrote  to 
some  one  out  here  about  it,  and  I  thought  you  were  the 
one.  After  my  grandfather  Kennedy  died,  my  mother 
urged  my  father  to  come  out  here  and  take  this  place, 
and  she  will  come  later.  He  is  back  in  the  settlement, 
but  he  is  not  well,  and  I  came  to  take  possession  myself 
in  my  mother's  name.  I  think  we  can  be  very  comfort- 
able here,"  Agnes  went  on,  "  though  I  am  sorry  the 
house  is  not  larger,"  she  added,  beginning  to  recognize 
the  unresponsiveness  of  the  man,  "  but  of  course  you 
can  stay  here  till  you  can  build  another.  It  will  not 
take  long,  you  know." 


60  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

The  man  gave  a  mocking  laugh.  "  It  will  take  a 
longer  time  than  you  will  ever  see,  my  young  miss. 
You  will  have  to  travel  back  the  way  you  came.  This 
place  is  more  mine  than  yours.  Possession  is  nine 
points  of  the  law.  Here  I  am  and  here  I  mean  to  stay. 
You  may  have  the  deed,  but  I've  got  the  place,  and  it 
will  take  more  than  one  slip  of  a  girl  to  get  it  from 
me." 

Agnes  was  speechless  with  amazement  at  what  she 
considered  the  audacity  of  the  man.  "  You  dare  to  say 
that  ?  "  she  cried,  recovering  her  courage.  "  You  have 
no  right  to  live  here  at  all.  It  is  as  much  robbery  for 
you  to  do  such  a  thing  as  to  keep  what  belongs  to 
another." 

The  man's  face  darkened.  "Take  care,"  he  said. 
"You'd  better  be  more  civil.  I'll  not  be  contradicted  by 
a  chit  of  a  girl." 

"  And  I'll  not  be  threatened  by  you,"  retorted  Agnes, 
all  her  blood  up.  "You  have  not  the  slightest  right 
here  except  you  were  allowed  by  mother  to  come.  You 
surely  have  not  been  here  long  enough  to  claim  the 
place  in  any  such  way  as  that." 

"  I  don't  make  my  claim  any  such  way.  You  haven't 
a  notion  of  who  I  am,  I  suppose." 

"  You  are  the  man  whom  my  mother  allowed  to  live 
here  till  she  should  come  and  take  her  own." 

"  I  am  not  the  one  who  is  allowed  here  ;  I  am  the  one 
who  belongs  here,  and  your  grandfather  knew  it.  It 


THE   UNEXPECTED  6l 

was  a  foolish  move  of  yours,  young  woman,  to  come 
out  here.  Better  let  sleeping  dogs  lie.  Was  there 
nobody  to  give  you  better  advice  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  ask  any.  I  came  because  father  couldn't. 
We  have  travelled  away  out  here  to  get  this  place  that 
my  grandfather  left,  and  we  are  going  to  have  it." 

The  man  regarded  her  gloomily.  "  I  don't  doubt 
you're  who  you  say  you  are,"  he  said  at  last.  "  Your 
mother  was  your  grandfather's  only  child,  I  believe  you 
told  me.  I  suppose  he  always  told  her  that." 

"  There  was  no  need.  She  was  the  first-born,  and  no 
sisters  nor  brothers  came  to  her." 

"  Your  grandfather's  papers  were  looked  into,  I  sup- 
pose. There  was  no  will  ? " 

"  No ;  father  said  no  doubt  he  meant  to  make  one.  He 
had  spoken  of  it  several  times,  but  as  my  mother  was 
the  only  child,  there  seemed  no  need,  and  father  said 
the  law  would  give  everything  to  mother  anyhow,  and  it 
was  all  very  plain.  Grandfather  left  some  papers  in 
father's  hands  when  he  last  came  to  Carlisle,  and  the 
deed  was  among  them." 

The  man  smiled  grimly.  "Well,  young  woman,  I 
have  just  this  piece  of  advice  to  give  you.  Go  back 
where  you  came  from.  You  will  have  to  stay  here  to- 
night, but  to-morrow  I'll  drive  you  to  Mayo,  and  you 
and  your  father  can  travel  back  east  the  best  way  you 
can  get  there.  I  don't  often  give  away  anything  for 
nothing,  but  I'm  going  to  give  this  advice  free,  and 


62  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

you'd  better  take  it  if  you  know  what  is  good  for 
you." 

"  And  if  I  don't  take  it  ? " 

"  Then  you'll  have  to  take  the  consequences,  which 
will  not  be  pleasant." 

Agnes  shook  her  head,  but  stood  considering  before 
she  spoke  again.  "  There  is  not  a  thing  to  be  afraid 
of,"  she  told  herself.  "  I  don't  know  why  this  man  is 
trying  to  scare  me,  but  one  thing  I  do  know,  and  that  is 
that  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should  give  up  our 
rights.  I  should  think  my  father  ought  to  know  what 
belongs  to  us  and  what  doesn't."  —  "  Now,"  turning  to 
the  man,  "  who  are  you,  that  you  insist  upon  staying  on 
this  place  which  you  know  does  not  belong  to  you  ? " 

The  man  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height.  He 
towered  above  the  girl  and  looked  down  at  her  with 
an  expression  of  bitter  resentment.  "  My  name  is 
Humphrey  Muirhead,"  he  said.  "  I  am  your  grand- 
father's eldest  child." 

Agnes  started  back  as  this  announcement  was  made, 
her  first  feeling  being  one  of  sharp  indignation.  "  No, 
no,"  she  cried,  "  I  cannot  believe  you." 

The  man  smiled  sardonically  but  gave  no  reply. 
"No,"  continued  Agnes,  excitedly;  "it  is  not  true. 
You  may  have  fooled  your  neighbors  and  have  pre- 
tended to  them  that  you  are  a  son  of  Humphrey 
Muirhead,  but  I  surely  'should  know.  Why,  I  have 
seen  the  family  Bible  with  my  own  eyes  and  have 


THE  UNEXPECTED  63 

read  the  records  —  my  grandfather's  marriage  and  my 
mother's  birth.  It  is  out  of  the  question  for  you  to 
be  my  mother's  brother.  You  are  assuming  my  grand- 
father's name  for  the  purpose  of  holding  this  property. 
I  say  you  are  not  Humphrey  Muirhead." 

"  It  ain't  worth  while  to  get  so  worked  up,"  said  the 
man,  slowly,  "  and  it  ain't  worth  while  to  call  names. 
I'm  no  impostor.  People  around  here  know  that.  Ask 
Dod  Hunter;  he  knew  your  grandfather;  he  knew, 
too,  when  he  came  out  here,  and  that  he  married  my 
mother  straight  and  honest.  I  am  the  first-born,  not 
your  mother." 

Agnes  paled  before  this  statement.  "  No,  no,"  she 
still  protested. 

"Yes,"  emphatically  declared  the  man.  "I  won't 
go  into  particulars ;  they're  not  pleasant.  Both  of  'em 
are  dead  now.  Anyhow,  he  was  a  young  fellow,  not 
more  than  eighteen,  and  she  was  the  daughter  of  a 
backwoodsman,  pretty  fiery,  wouldn't  stand  being 
driven,  didn't  like  your  grandfather's  perticuler  ways, 
and  at  last  she  run  off  and  left  him.  I  was  a  couple 
of  years  old  then.  Your  grandfather  saw  me  just  once 
after  thet.  I  found  him  out,  but  we  didn't  hit  it  off. 
I've  got  a  temper  like  my  mother's  and  I  did  some  big 
talking,  so  he  ordered  me  out  of  the  house  and  — " 
The  man  paused  and  clenched  his  fist,  "  I'm  his  son 
for  all  that,  and  I'll  have  my  rights." 

Agnes's  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  speaker.    She  scanned 


64  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

his  countenance  slowly,  and  detected  a  slight  resem- 
blance to  her  mother  about  the  eyes  and  brow,  though 
she  was  reluctant  to  admit  it  even  to  herself.  "  Show 
me  your  proofs,"  she  whispered.  "  I  will  believe  when 
I  see  them." 

The  man  left  the  room,  and  the  girl  stood  with 
bowed  head  and  hands  tightly  clasped,  her  whole 
attitude  one  of  rigid  self-control.  She  remained  thus 
till  the  man  returned  and  handed  her  two  papers. 
One  was  a  certificate  of  marriage  between  Humphrey 
Muirhead  and  Ellen  Doyle;  the  other  was  a  letter  in 
her  grandfather's  own  handwriting  and  bearing  his 
signature.  This  letter  asked  his  young  wife  to  return 
to  him  with  the  child. 

"Then  it  wasn't  grandfather's  fault,"  exclaimed 
Agnes. 

"That's  neither  here  nor  there,"  the  man  said, 
frowning.  "  I'm  who  I  say  I  am." 

"  I  see  that,  but  even  if  you  are,  the  half  of  this 
place  is  my  mother's,  isn't  it  ?  I  claim  our  share  of 
the  property."  Two  bright  spots  were  burning  in  the 
girl's  cheeks.  She  was  herself  again,  ready  for  defiance, 
for  action. 

"  Your  share  !  "  The  words  broke  forth  in  an  angry 
growl.  "  Haven't  you  been  living  in  comfort  all  these 
years?  Haven't  you  had  my  father's  money  spent  on 
you  all?  This  place  is  mine.  You  have  had  your 
share,  and  I  will  fight  for  my  own." 


THE   UNEXPECTED  65 

"  So  will  I,"  replied  the  girl.  "  I  shall  have  to  stay 
here  awhile,  I  suppose,  but  to-morrow  I  will  go  back  to 
my  father  and  my  friends,  and  if  there  is  any  justice  in 
the  land,  I  will  have  it." 

"  I'm  a  right  pleasant  neighbor  at  times,  I  am  told," 
returned  Humphrey  Muirhead,  sarcastically.  "You'll 
enjoy  having  an  uncle  near  at  hand.  Uncles  can  be 
pretty  worrisome,  you'll  find  out  before  you  get 
through." 

Agnes  made  no  reply,  but  thoughts  of  the  tales  she 
had  heard  of  wicked  uncles  flashed  into  her  mind. 
She  remembered  the  Babes  in  the  Woods  and  the 
little  princes  in  the  Tower.  It  was  plain  that  she  had 
gained  nothing  by  defiance,  and  she  half  wished  that 
she  had  been  more  conciliatory.  After  all,  it  was  hard 
that  her  grandfather's  own  son  must  be  her  enemy. 
She  looked  up  half  wistfully,  but  Humphrey  Muirhead 
bent  a  hard,  steely  glance  upon  her.  "  I  mean  fight," 
he  said. 

Agnes  drew  herself  up  haughtily,  regretting  her 
softer  feeling.  "Then  we  will  not  talk  about  it,"  she 
made  answer.  "  I  shall  have  to  wait  here  till  I  am 
sent  for,  but  I  can  wait  outside." 

Humphrey  Muirhead  stepped  to  the  door  and  called 
his  wife.  "  Here,  Judy,"  he  said,  "  this  is  my  niece. 
You  never  knew  I  had  one,  did  ye  ?  Well,  I  have, 
and  we're  terrible  fond  of  each  other  since  we  dis- 
covered we  are  related.  She's  going  to  stay  here  till 


66  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

some  one  comes  for  her.  You  kin  give  her  something 
to  eat."  And  he  left  the  room. 

Agnes  stood  looking  helplessly  at  the  woman  before 
her,  a  meek,  broken-spirited  creature.  "  I  am  sorry  I 
have  to  stay,"  Agnes  began.  "  I  didn't  understand 
when  I  came.  I  will  not  trouble  you  but  a  little 
while." 

"Oh,  'tain't  no  trouble,"  Mrs.  Muirhead  replied. 
"  I'm  real  glad  to  see  you.  We  never  had  none  o' 
his  folks  to  see  us  before.  He  never  would  talk 
about  them.  I  guess  you  favor  the  Muirheads,  for 
you  ain't  much  like  him,  an'  they  say  he's  his  mother 
over  again.  Won't  you  come  and  set  in  the  other 
room  by  the  fire  ?  " 

Agnes  acquiesced  silently,  and  for  the  next  hour 
she  gave  herself  to  the  task  of  entertaining  the  poor 
little  woman,  who  did  her  best  to  make  her  guest 
comfortable,  and  who  evidently  was  greatly  pleased 
at  receiving  a  visit  from  so  interesting  a  person. 

The  children  were  too  shy  to  be  in  the  way,  and 
Agnes  felt  too  perturbed  to  do  more  than  try  to  keep 
up  her  conversation  with  her  hostess. 

Humphrey  Muirhead  did  not  again  make  his  appear- 
ance, a  consideration  which  Agnes  had  not  expected 
would  be  shown  her.  "  He's  in  one  of  his  tempers," 
Mrs.  Muirhead  told  her.  "  I'm  glad  enough  when  he 
keeps  away  at  such  times.  Some  one  from  the 
Hunters'  will  come  over  for  you,  did  you  say  ?  I  can't 


THE   UNEXPECTED  6/ 

see,  even  if  he  is  mad,  why  he  didn't  make  you  stay 
here  with  us.  I  don't 'see  many  women  folks,"  she 
added  wistfully. 

Agnes  shook  her  head.  "There  will  be  no  more 
visiting,  Mrs.  Muirhead.  I  made  a  mistake  in  coming 
at  all." 

Mrs.  Muirhead  looked  disappointed,  but  she  had  long 
ago  given  up  protests,  and  took  the  matter  meekly. 
She  stood  watching,  a  dispirited,  bent,  little  figure,  as 
Agnes  set  out  for  Dod  Hunter's  under  the  protection 
of  the  young  man  who  came  for  her  in  due  course  of 
time. 

It  was  about  three  miles  to  this  next  place,  and  Dod 
Hunter  appeared  at  the  gate  to  welcome  the  girl.  "  I 
did  not  dream  I  should  have  such  a  set-back,"  began 
Agnes,  "and  I  didn't  think  I  should  have  to  ask  you  to 
take  me  in.  I  thought  of  course  I  could  stay  at  —  at 
the  other  place." 

"You  are  more  than  welcome,  my  lass,"  returned 
Dod,  "  and  I  am  at  your  service  any  time  you  like." 

"  Can  you  spare  me  a  little  time  now  ? " 

"As  well  as  not."  He  motioned  her  to  a  seat  on  a 
fallen  log. 

"This  is  good,"  said  Agnes.  "I  would  rather  talk 
out  here.  I  love  to  be  out  of  doors.  This  is  a  beauti- 
ful country,  and  I  don't  wonder  that  my  grandfather 
settled  here.  It  is  about  my  grandfather  that  I  want 
to  talk,  Uncle  Dod.  You  knew  him  ? " 


68  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  So  he  was  your  grandfather  ?  Yes,  I  knew  him 
well.  We  were  good  friends  "when  he  came  out  here 
nigh  to  forty  year  ago.  If  you  think  it's  wild  now, 
what  would  you  have  thought  it  then  ?  You  oughter 
hev  seen  it,  not  a  path  but  what  the  Injuns  made,  and 
skeerce  a  neighbor  for  twenty  mile.  Them  was  real 
pioneer  times.  These  ain't  shucks  to  'em,  though  the 
folks  'at  come  out  from  the  east  think  they're  gittin' 
into  the  heart  of  the  forest.  They're  too  many  comin' 
to  call  it  wild  now." 

"I  can't  imagine  it  much  wilder,"  said  Agnes, 
"  though  it  is  much  more  settled  here  than  off  yonder, 
where  we  first  went.  You  knew  of  my  grandfather's 
first  marriage  ? " 

Dod  Hunter  looked  at  her  askance  before  he  pro- 
ceeded. "  Yes,  I  knew." 

"  Tell  me,  please.  Do  you  know,  we  never  dreamed 
of  such  a  thing.  If  mother  knew,  she  never  told  me." 

"  She  didn't  know.     He  didn't  mean  she  should." 

"  She  always  thought  she  was  grandfather's  only 
child.  Please  tell  me  all  you  know  about  it.  I  have 
heard  Humphrey  Muirhead's  story,  and  I  would  like 
to  hear  yours." 

"  Well,  it  was  this  way.  Your  grandfather  came  out 
here  in  the  airly  days,  as  I  told  you.  Wanted  adven- 
ture, I  suppose.  He  got  it,  plenty  of  it.  One  day 
when  he  was  out  hunting,  he  got  hurt  and  was  carried 
to  Doyle's.  Ellen  nursed  him.  She  was  a  pretty  girl, 


THE  UNEXPECTED  69 

wild  as  a  hawk,  high  tempered,  independent,  and  —  well, 
she  did  about  as  she  pleased  always ;  and  she  got  tired  of 
Humphrey  Muirhead  after  a  while  —  liked  her  father's 
home  better,  and  left  her  husband  because  it  pleased 
her  to.  They  wa'n't  nothing  but  children,  the  pair  of 
'em,  at  best.  He  would  have  taken  her  back,  but  she 
wouldn't  go  and  raised  Cain  generally.  She  died  when 
the  boy  was  about  five  year  old.  He  was  well  rid  of 
her,  and  after  a  year  he  married  your  grandmother. 
Ellen's  people  kept  the  boy,  but  your  grandfather  sup- 
ported him  and  would  have  done  well  by  him  if  he'd 
been  let." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Agnes,  softly,  when  the  tale  was 
finished.  "  It  is  good  to  know  grandfather  was  not  to 
blame." 

"  No,  he  wa'n't ;  he  was  took  in.  Some  folks  might 
think  he  ought  not  to  have  given  up  the  boy,  but  what's 
a  young  fellow  with  no  special  home  to  do  with  a  baby, 
I'd  like  to  know.  Then  when  he  did  have  a  home  the 
grandmother  made  such  a  racket  that  he  let  her  keep 
him.  Besides,  it  was  a  long  ways  off  where  his  folks 
was,  and  travellin'  in  them  days  wa'n't  as  easy  as  it  is 
now,  and  you  can't  say  it's  any  too  easy  gettin'  here  as 
it  is." 

"  No,  grandfather  wasn't  to  blame,"  Agnes  repeated. 
"And  so  this  man  —  Humphrey  Muirhead," — Agnes 
hesitated  before  she  spoke  the  name,  —  "  he  has  a  right 
to  be  where  he  is,  and  we  can  claim  only  half." 


70  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  Humphrey  Muirhead's  an  ugly  enemy.  If  you  can 
get  along  without  any  of  it,  you  would  do  well." 

"  I  don't  see  how  we  can.  Father  is  so  —  so  helpless, 
and  I  don't  see  how  we  can  get  along  without  just  this. 
The  man  Muirhead  thinks  we  have  had  our  share 
because  of  all  that  has  been  done  for  mother  these 
years  ;  it  hasn't  been  very  much,  I  am  sure." 

Dod  Hunter  wheeled  around  sharply.  "  The  ras- 
cal !  He  said  that,  did  he  ?  I  suppose  nothing  has 
been  done  for  him.  The  reason  your  grandfather  left 
so  little  is  because  a  good  pile  of  his  money  went  to 
help  his  son  out  of  his  scrapes.  By  rights  you  ought 
to  have  everything." 

"  Oh,  is  it  that  way  ?  I  am  glad  to  know  about  that. 
Now,  Uncle  Dod,  it  will  be  some  time  before  the  busi- 
ness is  settled,  but  I  mean  to  live  in  this  country.  I 
want  to  learn  how  best  to  manage,  so  we  can  be  com- 
fortable when  mother  comes,  and  I  want  to  send  for 
her  as  soon  as  possible.  I  shall  ask  Mr.  M'Clean  what 
he  thinks  it  is  best  to  do,  but  I  do  not  want  to  go  back 
now,  for  we've  really  nothing  to  go  back  to,  and  there's 
plenty  of  land  to  be  had  for  very  little.  Couldn't  we 
get  a  little  spot  somewhere,  and  live  on  that  till  we  can 
get  this  Muirhead  place  settled  ?  I  did  so  hope  we  could 
send  for  mother  and  the  children  right  away."  She 
gave  a  little  sigh,  for  it  seemed  as  if  this  dear  hope 
were  now  farther  away  than  ever. 

Dod  Hunter  watched  her  for  a  moment.     She  was  so 


THE   UNEXPECTED  71 

young  and,  it  seemed,  so  helpless.  He  shook  his  head. 
"  I  don't  think  you'd  better  go  anywhere  alone  with 
your  father.  We're  not  quite  as  far  in  the  backwoods 
as  we  used  to  be,  but  it  is  a  pretty  hard  place,  after  all, 
and  it  needs  strong  men  and  strong  women.  Better  go 
back  to  your  father's  kin." 

"  Oh,  no,  no ;  that  is  not  to  be  thought  of.  You 
don't  know,  but  it  would  never  do.  Some  way  can  be 
managed,  I  think.  You  need  not  tell  any  one,  but  I'm 
going  to  have  our  share  of  that  place  before  I  get 
through." 

Dod  Hunter  laughed.  "  You're  spunky,  but  you 
don't  know  Hump  Muirhead." 

"  Oh !  if  father  were  only  himself,  it  would  be  all 
right.  I  wish  I  knew  what  was  to  be  done." 

"  First  thing  you  do  is  to  go  back  to  Joe  M'Clean's. 
He's  not  going  to  begrutch  ye  a  place  to  sleep  and  a  bit 
to  eat.  Both  you  and  yer  father  airn  it.  Ye  work 
hard,  an'  we've  a  right  to  help  each  other  in  this 
country;  if  we  didn't,  some  of  us  would  have  a  poor 
show."  So  Agnes  agreed  to  accept  this  advice  and 
wait  for  time  to  bring  about  some  plan  for  the  future. 
She  remained  with  the  Hunters  that  night,  and  the  next 
day  saw  her  back  again  with  the  M 'Cleans  to  whom  she 
told  her  story.  But  to  her  father  she  said  nothing. 
He  would  be  Bewildered  in  trying  to  puzzle  out  the 
facts  and  could  do  nothing  to  help  her. 

"  I  think  ye'll  juist  have  to  let  the  matter  go,  Agnes," 


72  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

Joseph  M'Clean  told  her.  "  I'm  no  so  sure  but  the 
eldest  son  doesn't  get  the  estate  by  right  of  the  law 
of  primogeniture,  and  there's  no  use  fightin'  when  it's 
not  necessary.  If  your  grandfather  had  made  a  will, 
leavin'  his  property  to  your  mother,  that  would  be 
another  thing.  Juist  let  it  rest,  lass,  and  bide  here  till 
we  can  think  out  what  is  best  for  ye." 

So  Agnes  submitted,  and  though  she  chafed  under 
the  long  delay,  .she  was  very  grateful  to  these  good 
friends  who  were  ,so  anxious  for  her  welfare  and  that  of 
her  father.  It  was  quite  true  that  she  earned  her  board, 
for  she  worked  with  the  others  and  gave  a  hand  wher- 
ever there  was  a  need,  indoors  or  out,  and  her  father  did 
likewise,  so  that  the  M'Clean  clearing  soon  became  a 
very  habitable  place. 


CHAPTER  V 

POLLY 

BUT  it  was  not  long  before  an  event  occurred 
which  decided  Agnes  to  make  other  plans.  All 
through  the  winter  she  had  been  content  to  stay  with 
her  father  at  the  new  home  of  the  M'Cleans,  but  as 
spring  was  nearing,  the  desire  was  strong  upon  her  to 
possess  the  home  to  which  her  mother  and  the  children 
should  come.  Her  father,  quiet  and  indifferent,  worked 
steadily  at  whatever  came  to  hand ;  but  he  rarely  spoke, 
and  if  asked  to  give  an  opinion,  looked  bewildered  and 
helpless.  "  Will  he  always  be  so  ? "  thought  Agnes, 
"  and  must  we  stay  on  this  way  month  after  month  ? " 
Then  one  day  appeared  Polly  O'Neill. 

Jeanie  and  Agnes  were  busy  in  the  garden  getting  it 
ready  for  the  first  crop  of  vegetables,  when  through 
the  trees  which  fringed  the  river  they  saw  some  one 
coming,  and  a  voice  called:  "Joe  M '  Clean !  Jeanie! 
Nancy !  Are  you  all  there  ? " 

"It  sounds  like  Polly  O'Neill,"  cried  Agnes,  drop- 
ping her  hoe.  Jeanie  followed  her  example,  and  the 
two  ran  down  the  little  path  leading  to  the  river.  "  It's 
Polly  herself  and  the  children ! "  cried  Agnes. 

73 


74  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  Faith,  then,  it  is,"  came  the  reply  from  the  ap- 
proaching figure,  who,  with  a  child  under  each  arm 
and  two  at  her  heels,  was  making  her  way  toward 
them. 

"Why,  Polly,  Polly,  how  did  you  get  here?"  ex- 
claimed the  girls  in  a  breath. 

"  I  kim  by  the  river.     I  beeta  come  that  way." 

"  Of  course  you  would  have  to  do  that,  but  where  is 
Jimmy  ?  " 

Polly  set  down  her  children  and  wiped  her  eyes  with 
the  back  of  her  hand.  "  Faith,  thin,  I'm  a  lone  woman. 
Jimmy's  been  took  be  the  Injuns,  and  whether  I'll  see 
him  agin  or  not,  I'll  niver  tell.  The  sittlemint's  broke 
up  an'  ivery  mother's  son  av  'em  has  scattered,  so  I 
followed  along  an'  kern  this  way  with  others.  I  dunno 
will  I  iver  see  Jimmy  agin,  but  I'm  not  beyant  hopin'  I 
will.  Annyway,  he'll  know  where  to  find  me,  for  I  left 
worrud." 

"  Why,  if  they  are  all  gone,  how  could  you  leave 
word?" 

"  I  did  thin.  I  got  Johnny  McCormick  to  write  a 
bit  on  a  board,  an'  I  planted  it  where  the  cabin  was,  an' 
if  Jimmy  comes  back,  he'll  see  it." 

"  Oh,  poor  Polly !  I  do  hope  he  will  come.  But 
now  come  right  in  and  see  mother,"  Jeanie  urged. 
"  How  the  baby  has  grown !  It  is  good  to  see  you 
all  again." 

That  night  the  little  cabin  of  the  M'Clean's  was  full 


POLLY 

to  overflowing,  but  these  pioneers  considered  it  a  part 
of  their  duty  to  give  a  helping  hand  to  whomever  might 
come  along,  and  there  was  no  limit  to  their  simple  hos- 
pitality. Yet  it  seemed  to  Agnes  that  now,  when  the 
resources  of  the  family  were  taxed  to  their  utmost,  she 
must  seek  another  home,  and  she  tried  to  consult  her; 
father  upon  the  subject.  But  he  would  only  mildly 
acquiesce  to  anything  that  she  proposed,  and  therefore 
to  Polly  Agnes  took  her  trouble. 

"  Father  is  able  to  work,"  she  told  her,  "but  he  seems 
to  have  no  will,  and  would  as  lief  do  one  thing  as  another. 
Oh,  Polly,  what  shall  I  do  ?  If  my  mother  were  here,  we 
could  take  up  land  and  build  a  little  house ;  the  neigh- 
bors would  help,  and  soon  Sandy  would  be  big  enough 
to  take  charge  of  things  with  our  planning,  and  we  could 
all  be  so  comfortable.  But  they  will  not  let  me  go  off 
with  him  alone." 

"Why  not  jine  foorces  with  Polly  O'Neill  if  ye  can 
stand  the  children's  clatter  ?  I'm  no  for  biding  with  Joe 
M 'Clean  longer  than  I  kin  gather  me  wits." 

"  Oh,  Polly,  that  would  be  a  fine  thing.  We  could  go 
together,  and  I  could  furnish  a  man's  work  if  not  his 
judgment.  Oh,  Polly,  you  have  thought  of  the  right 
thing!" 

"Ye  see,  I'm  much  in  your  fix,  Nancy,  and  I've  been 
wonderin'  what  would  I  do,  an'  ye  see  it'll  be  doin*  a 
turn  for  ye  all  at  the  same  time  I'm  betterin*  mesel'. 
Now,  I'll  tell  ye  what's  to  be  done :  ye'll  get  yer  father 


76  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

to  take  up  a  bit  of  land ;  ye'll  have  to  go  with  him  to 
see  that  he  does  it  all  straight  an'  true,  an*  we'll  build  a 
bit  of  a  cabin  and  live  as  commojus  as  a  litter  o'  pigs." 

Agnes  laughed.  "  I'd  like  to  live  a  little  better  than 
that." 

"  Sure,  then,  I'm  not  sayin'  we'll  not  live  cleaner." 

"  And  when  we  get  our  share  of  the  Muirhead  place, 
you  can  keep  the  cabin.  Oh,  I  must  tell  you  all  about 
the  Muirheads." 

Polly  listened  attentively  to  the  tale.  "  Ye'll  be  havin' 
a  puir  chanst  av  gettln'  it,"  she  said,  "  for  the  law,  I'm 
thinkin',  '11  give  it  to  the  son  if  so  be  there's  no  will. 
Ye'd  better  put  the  notion  out  of  yer  head,  Nancy. 
We'll  stand  by  one  another,  an'  if  my  Jimmy  comes 
back,  I'll  no  object  to  goin'  anny where  he  may  be 
choosin'." 

Agnes  thought  the  chances  of  Jimmy's  coming  back 
were  no  better  than  the  chances  of  getting  the  Muir- 
head property,  but  she  did  not  say  so,  though  for  all 
that  Polly  mourned  the  loss  of  her  husband,  she  was 
outwardly  the  same  fun-loving,  jolly  creature.  She 
entered  into  the  new  scheme  with  much  zest,  and  pushed 
it  so  vigorously  that  before  six  weeks  were  gone,  Agnes 
found  herself  established  in  a  comfortable  little  abode 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river  from  the  Muirhead  place, 
but  not  very  far  from  the  M' Cleans.  Every  one  of  the 
neighbors  gave  a  willing  hand  to  the  log-rolling,  the 
house-raising,  and  the  getting  of  the  two  families  settled. 


POLLY  77- 

Fergus  Kennedy,  in  his  mild  way,  seemed  to  enjoy  it  all, 
though  the  dread  of  Indians  seemed  to  overpower  him 
now  and  then,  and  then  he  became  pitifully  dependent 
upon  Polly  and  Agnes.  He  worked  at  whatever  task 
they  set  him,  and  as  Polly  was  a  master  hand  at  manag- 
ing, the  little  clearing  soon  took  on  an  inhabited  look. 
The  children  tumbled  about  on  the  puncheon  floor,  the 
big  chimney-place  showed  a  cheerful  fire  over  which 
pots  of  various  sizes  bubbled  and  steamed,  Polly's  spin- 
ning-wheel whirred  in  the  corner  to  Agnes's  busy  tread, 
and  the  whole  place  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of 
time  gave  the  appearance  of  thrift  and  energy. 

Archie  M' Clean  came  over  whenever  he  could  spare 
the  time,  and  Dod  Hunter's  eldest  son,  Jerry,  admiring 
Polly's  energy  and  wit,  made  frequent  excuses  to  drop 
in  to  see  how  they  were  getting  along,  to  help  with  the 
garden,  or  to  bring  in  a  haunch  of  venison  or  a  wild 
turkey.  Every  one  recognized  the  fact  that  Fergus 
Kennedy  was  not  an  efficient  protector,  but  no  one 
doubted  the  fact  that  Polly  was.  Agnes,  auburn  haired, 
blue  eyed,  fair  skinned,  was  undeniably  a  girl  to  be 
admired  by  the  stalwart  young  frontiersmen,  and  when 
she  set  out  with  Polly  to  any  of  the  rude  entertainments 
the  settlement  afforded,  there  was  never  a  lack  of  an 
escort.  It  was  a  great  event  when  a  little  log  meeting- 
house was  erected  by  these  pious  Scotch-Irish,  and  the 
going  to  meeting  meant  as  much  to  the  younger  people 
as  to  their  elders,  though  perhaps  not  in  quite  the  same 


78  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

way.  The  children,  to  be  sure,  rather  dreaded  the  rigid 
discipline  of  sitting  still  through  exceedingly  long  prayers 
and  still  longer  sermons,  but  this  exercise  of  self-control 
was  to  their  advantage,  and  they  liked  the  psalms,  which 
because  of  the  scarcity  of  psalm-books  were  lined  out  by 
Joseph  M' Clean,  who  was  precentor.  The  psalms  were 
sung  with  great  heartiness  by  young  and  old  to  the 
"Twelve  common  tunes,"  though  singing-masters  farther 
east  were  beginning  to  introduce  newer  ones,  thereby 
causing  some  dissension. 

It  was  one  Saturday  afternoon  that  Archie  appeared 
more  spruced  up  than  usual.  His  hair  was  sleeked 
down  with  bear's  oil,  and  his  hunting-shirt  was  adorned 
with  embroidery  done  with  porcupine  quills.  Polly  saw 
him  coming  and  laughed.  "  Faith,  but  ye  beeta  look 
fine,  Archie,"  she  cried.  "  It's  no  the  Sabbath  yet,  but 
yer  rigged  up  to  the  nines,  and  strut  like  a  turkey- 
gobbler." 

Archie  flushed  under  his  sunburn,  but  he  answered 
Polly's  sally  with,  "It's  no  so  far  from  the  Sabbath 
Polly,  an'  ye'd  better  be  catechising  the  children,  so 
they'll  know  what's  the  chief  end  o'  man  when  the  new 
meenister  visits  ye." 

"  Now  hear  him !  "  Polly  cried.  "  Is  it  a  meenister 
himsel'  that  is  spakin'  ?  Land  o'  love,  Nancy,  see  the 
solemn  countenance  av  the  lad.  He's  come  to  tell  us 
that  he's  off  to  study  for  the  meenistry,  an'  that's  why 
he's  so  prinked  out.  I'll  be  gettin'  me  dye  kittle  ready, 


POLLY  79 

Archie  dear,  to  color  yer  blacks  fur  ye ;  ye'll  soon  be 
needin'  'em." 

Agnes  came  to  the  door  where  the  two  were  standing. 
She  was  a  little  flushed  from  having  been  over  the  fire. 
"You're  pranked  beyond  a  doubt,  Archie,"  she  said. 
"  What's  the  occasion  ? " 

Archie  looked  embarrassed.  "  It's  no  occasion,  Nancy, 
except  I  came  over  to  see  you,  and  ask  you  to  go  to 
church  with  me  to-morrow.  Father  has  a  new  horse, 
and  I'll  take  you  on  the  pillion." 

Agnes  put  her  head  to  one  side  rather  shyly,  as  she 
glanced  at  Polly.  "There's  father,"  she  said.  "He 
loves  to  go  to  church,  and  he  will  miss  me." 

"I'll  see  to  your  father  fast  enough,  if  that's  all," 
Polly  answered,  "  but  maybe  ye'll  not  be  well  dressed 
enough  for  this  fine  gentleman,  Nancy." 

"  Ah,  now,  Polly,"  expostulated  Archie,  "  you'd  better 
stop  your  nonsense.  Agnes  looks  well  dressed  in  what- 
ever she  wears." 

"In  — 

*  Linsey-woolsey  petticoat, 
And  lappet  cotton  gown, 
Shoes  and  stockings  in  her  hand, 
But  barefoot  on  the  ground,' " 

sang  Polly.  "Ye'll  not  even  wet  yer  good  shoes  by 
ridin',  Nancy,  and  I'd  advise  ye  to  take  the  lift  when  ye 
ken  git  it."  And  so  Agnes  promised  that  she  would 
go  with  Archie,  secretly  wishing  that  she  had  a  new  ker- 


80  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

chief  and  that  her  best  bonnet  was  of  something  better 
than  "  six  hundred"  linen. 

"  Ye'll  come  in  and  have  a  sup  with  us,"  said  Polly  to 
Archie  ;  "  that  is,  if  so  fine  a  body  kin  set  down  with  our 
linsey-woolsey,  and  it's  no  pewter  we  have,  but  juist 
wooden  bowls  and  trenchers." 

"  As  if  I  didn't  know,"  returned  Archie,  with  some 
annoyance.  "  And  that  reminds  me,  I  fetched  you  over 
a  set  of  bowls  I've  been  making.  They  are  of  good  ash 
knots  and  as  hard  as  a  bullet.  I  left  'em  out  here  where 
your  father  is  working,  Nancy." 

"  Run  along  with  him  and  get  them,"  said  Polly,  giv- 
ing Agnes  a  good-natured  shove,  "  and  I'll  be  takin'  up 
the  mush  whilst  ye  tell  yer  father  to  come  in."  ,She 
stood  a  moment  looking  after  the  youth  and  the  maid  as 
they  went  off  together.  With  all  her  rough  heartiness 
and  shrewd  common  sense,  Polly  was  sentimental  and 
she  loved  Agnes  as  a  younger  sister.  "  They're  a  likely 
looking  pair,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  I  hope  they'll  hit 
it  off,  though  I'm  no  so  sure  o'  Nancy.  She's  far  too 
unconscious-like  when  Archie's  around.  He's  a  good 
lad,  though  a  bit  too  serious.  Faith,  he'd  make  a  good 
meenister  or  a  schoolmaster  if  he  had  the  larnin'."  She 
turned  into  the  house  while  Archie  and  Agnes  went  on 
through  the  clearing  to  where  Fergus  Kennedy  was  at 
work  in  the  little  garden. 

"  I  saw  that  Hump  Muirhead  yesterday,"  said  Archie. 

"  Where  ?     Did  you  speak  to  him  ?  " 


POLLY  8 1 

"  No.  He  was  over  by  M'Clintock's.  He  was  boast- 
ing that  you'd  never  set  foot  on  the  place  again.  He 
says  it's  his  by  right  of  his  being  the  eldest  and  the 
son,  and  your  mother  would  have  no  chance  at  court 
unless  she  had  a  will  to  produce  to  prove  a  claim,  and 
there's  nobody  can  contradict  that.  I'd  like  to  be  able 
to  oust  him,  but  if  anybody  tried  it,  he  would  make  it 
bad  for  them,  for  he  is  capable  of  doing  anything,  they 
say,  and  nobody  can  gainsay  that  he  hasn't  his  right  by 
being  the  eldest.  So  I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to  give  it 
up,  Agnes." 

"  Oh,  how  I  hate  to.  I  know  my  grandfather  would 
never  have  told  my  mother  that  she  would  have  that 
piece  of  property  if  he  hadn't  have  meant  to  leave  it 
to  her.  I  should  like  to  get  the  best  of  him.  Oh,  I 
should." 

"  So  would  I,  but  I  think  I'd  fight  shy  of  him.  They 
say  he's  a  bad  one  if  you  get  his  ill-will,  and  he  will 
harm  you  if  he  can,  and  it  worries  me,  Agnes  —  to  have 
you —  you  in  danger." 

"  Oh,  I'm  safe  enough.  I'm  not  afraid  of  anybody 
but  the  Indians,  and  they  are  not  so  troublesome  about 
here  where  it  is  more  thickly  settled.  I  like  to  have 
you  call  me  Agnes,  Archie.  'Most  everybody  says 
Nancy." 

"  I  know  you  like  it." 

"  And  that's  why  you  do  it  ?  Good  boy.  Don't  say 
anything  to  father  about  Humphrey  Muirhead ;  it  will 


82  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

only  confuse  him,  for  he  will  try  to  remember,  and  you 
know  he  can't.  We'll  bide  here  awhile,  anyhow,  until  —  " 

"  Until  I'm  twenty-one,"  interrupted  Archie,  coolly, 
"and  then  I  will  have  a  home  for  you." 

Agnes  bit  her  lip  ;  she  had  not  meant  to  bring  up  that 
subject.  But  she  thought  it  well  not  to  answer,  and  hur- 
ried on  to  where  her  father  was  busy.  "  Father,  sup- 
per's ready,"  she  called  cheerily.  "  Time  to  stop  work. 
Saturday  evening,  you  know,  and  to-morrow  we  go  to 
meeting." 

"Yes,  yes,  lass.  I'm  ready,"  he  returned,  straighten- 
ing himself  up.  "  To-morrow  '11  be  the  Sabbath  ?  I 
didn't  mind  that;  I'm  glad  ye  told  me." 

"  Here's  Archie." 

"Archie?" 

"Yes,  Archie  M'Clean,  Joseph  M'Clean's  son." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  Joe  M'Clean's  son.  Glad  to  see  ye,  my  lad." 
It  was  hard  for  him  to  remember  Archie  from  time  to 
time,  but  the  lad  never  minded  and  always  repeated  his 
answers  patiently  to  the  often  recurring  questions. 

"Archie  has  brought  us  a  nest  of  bowls,"  said  Agnes. 
"Where  did  you  put  them,  Archie?"  He  produced 
them  from  where  he  had  laid  them  behind  a  hollow 
stump,  and  they  were  duly  admired.  A  nest  of  such 
bowls  as  Archie  could  make  from  knots  of  the  ash  tree 
was  something  of  a  possession,  and  his  art  in  making 
them  gave  him  quite  a  name  for  cleverness,  for  few  had 
his  accomplishment  of  turning  them. 


POLLY  83 

"  I've  put  up  a  fine  sweep  at  our  place,"  Archie  told 
them,  "  and  you'll  be  bringing  your  corn  over,  won't 
you,  Agnes  ?  All  the  neighbors  are  at  it,  and  keep  it 
going  steadily,  but  you  shall  have  your  turn,  and  I  will 
grind  all  you  need." 

"  How  good  and  kind  you  are,"  Agnes  returned. 
"  When  the  corn  gets  hard,  it  is  pretty  heavy  work  for 
us.  The  grater  does  well  enough  now  while  the  corn  is 
tender,  for  you  made  us  such  a  good  one.  You  remem- 
ber, father,  it  was  Archie  who  made  our  grater,  and 
now  he  has  made  a  sweep  at  his  father's,  and  will  grind 
our  corn  for  us  if  we  take  it  over." 

Her  father  nodded  thoughtfully,  not  being  quite  sure 
of  himself.  He  remembered  the  grater  in  daily  use  to 
prepare  the  meal  for  the  family,  but  the  maker  of  the 
crude  little  implement  was  not  so  familiar  an  object. 

Carrying  the  bowls  and  Fergus  Kennedy's  hoe, 
Archie  strode  along  by  the  side  of  the  two,  Agnes 
secretly  admiring  his  fine  appearance,  though  she  did 
not  intend  to  let  him  know  it.  He,  meanwhile,  thought 
no  one  could  look  as  pretty  as  Agnes ;  her  soft  auburn 
hair  curled  around  her  neck,  and  though  she  was  rosy 
from  sunburn  and  a  crop  of  little  freckles  freely  be- 
sprinkled her  nose  and  cheeks,  her  forehead  was  purely 
white,  artd  her  throat,  too.  She  carried  her  sunbonnet 
in  her  hand,  and  her  feet,  scratched  and  brown,  were 
minus  shoes  and  stockings.  In  the  cold  weather  she 
had  her  shoepacks  and  moccasins,  but  now  in  the  sum- 


84  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

mer  she  must  go  barefooted  like  the  rest  of  her  friends. 
She  was  thankful  that  she  was  wearing,  at  the  time 
their  first  cabin  was  burned,  the  only  pair  of  shoes  she 
had  brought  from  home.  These  were  saved  for  great 
occasions,  and  she  thought  of  them  with  satisfaction,  as 
she  remembered  that  she  could  wear  them  to  church  the 
next  day. 

"  There  is  a  newcomer  in  the  neighborhood,"  Archie 
told  them  all  at  the  table,  between  his  mouthfuls  of 
mush  and  milk  —  "gape  and  swallow,"  Polly  called  it. 

"  And  who  is  the  stranger  ? "  Agnes  asked. 

"  A  young  man,  David  Campbell." 

"  And  what  is  he  like  ?  Where  has  he  come  from  ? 
Where  will  he  settle  ?  " 

"  Hear  the  lass's  questions,"  laughed  Polly.  "  Ye'll 
be  takin'  them  wan  be  wan,  Archie.  Firstly,  what  is 
he  like  ?  Under  this  head  come  his  features,  his  hair 
and  eyes  —  " 

Agnes  shook  her  head.  "Ah,  but  Polly,  you  are 
almost  sacreleegious  with  your  firstly  and  your  heads." 

"  I  ?  Not  a  mite.  Can  no  one  but  a  meenister  be 
sayin'  firstly  and  secondly,  and  so  on  up  to  seventhly  ? " 

"Don't  bother  with  her,  Archie;  go  on  and  tell  us. 
I'm  curious  to  know." 

"  As  if  that  needed  tellin',"  continued  Polly,  bent  on 
teasing. 

Archie's  grave  smile  was  his  only  reply  to  Polly's 
words,  then  he  went  on  to  say :  "  He's  no  so  tall,  but 


POLLY  85 

broad  shouldered ;  sandy  hair  and  blue  eyes  he  has. 
He's  rather  a  quiet-spoken  man,  but  energetic,  and 
seeming  honest  and  weel  intentioned." 

"  Ah  !  "  Agnes  was  suddenly  thoughtful.  Presently 
she  laughed  outright.  "  Has  Jeanie  seen  him  ? " 

"Yes,  he  was  twice  over  in  the  past  week.  He's 
thinking  of  settling  down  the  other  side  of  Gilfillan's." 

"  Has  he  a  wife  to  follow  him  ?  " 

"  No;  he's  but  himself." 

"  Ah  !  "  Polly  was  disappointed.  "  Then  there'll  be 
no  housewarming." 

"Not  yet.  He'll  put  up  a  bit  of  a  shanty  for  shelter 
and  do  better  later  on." 

"  I'm  that  anxious  to  see  him,"  Agnes  said.  "  I've 
a  reason  for  it.  Ah,  but,  I'll  be  glad  to  see  Jeanie 
to-morrow."  Her  eyes  danced  and  the  dimples  played 
around  the  corners  of  her  mouth  as  she  spoke. 

"Tell  me  what's  your  consate,  dear,"  said  Polly, 
coaxingly.  "Ye've  something  that's  a  sacret." 

"No,  I'll  not  tell."  Agnes  shook  her  head.  "You 
charged  me  with  curiosity,  Polly  O'Neill,  and  I'll  not 
satisfy  yours.  Who's  curious  now  ?  Come  early,"  she 
called  to  Archie,  as  he  started  away,  "  for  I  want  to 
have  a  word  with  Jeanie  before  we  go  into  the  meeting- 
house, and  I  want  to  see  this  David  Campbell." 

Archie  nodded,  though  to  tell  the  truth  he  was  a 
little  troubled  by  Agnes's  eagerness  to  meet  the  new- 
comer. Suppose  she  should  fancy  him.  Archie  had 


86  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

never  been  jealous  before,  but  it  must  be  said  that  even 
the  elegance  of  his  attire  failed  to  bring  him  comfort  as 
he  trudged  through  the  woods  toward  his  home. 

Even  the  next  morning  he  had  an  uneasy  feeling  that 
Agnes's  excitement  on  the  way  to  church  was  not  due 
to  her  being  impressed  by  the  honor  of  riding  with  him 
upon  the  new  horse,  but  because  of  David  Campbell's 
appearance  in  the  neighborhood. 

"  You're  overmerry  for  the  Sabbath,"  he  said  once, 
reprovingly,  and  was  sorry  a  moment  after  the  speech, 
because  it  had  exactly  the  effect  he  feared. 

"  Then  I'll  meditate  upon  my  shortcomings  the  rest  of 
the  way,"  Agnes  retorted.  "  You'll  no  need  to  address 
your  remarks  to  me  again,  Archie  M' Clean.  I'll  take 
your  meenisterial  advice  and  hold  self-communion." 
And  Archie,  feeling  that  he  had  brought  the  situa- 
tion upon  himself,  was  obliged  to  continue  his  way  in 
silence,  and  the  slight  hold  of  Agnes's  hand  around  his 
waist  was  the  sole  solace  he  had.  He  had  counted  so 
much  upon  this  ride,  and  to  have  it  turn  out  thus  by  his 
own  hasty  speech  was  too  much.  All  the  bravery  of 
his  new  garments  went  for  nothing.  He  longed  to 
apologize,  but  his  stubborn  Scotch  pride  prevented  him, 
and  so  they  rode  on  in  silence  till  they  were  in  sight  of 
the  meeting-house.  Then  Archie  ventured  to  lay  his 
fingers  for  one  moment  upon  Agnes's  hand,  but  she 
withdrew  her  hold,  and  he  was  aware  that  he  had 
offended  in  this,  too.  He  turned  to  look  at  her,  but 


POLLY  87 

the  blue  eyes  were  obstinately  cast  down.  Agnes,  too, 
possessed  her  share  of  Scotch  pride. 

They  stopped  before  the  cleared  space  where  little 
groups  of  people  stood.  As  Archie  dismounted  he  saw 
that  Agnes's  eyes  were  busy  in  looking  over  the  arri- 
vals. It  was  evident  that  there  was  no  forgiveness  for 
him  unless  he  asked  it.  He  raised  his  eyes  to  the 
girl  as  he  lifted  her  down,  but  there  was  nothing  but 
cold  disdain  in  hers.  "  Ye'll  no  hold  my  remark 
against  me,"  he  whispered.  "  I  was  vexed  for  no 
reason  but  because  ye  were  so  eager  to  see  David 
Campbell." 

"  Was  that  it  ?  "  Agnes  gave  him  a  smile,  for,  woman- 
like, the  reason  of  the  offence  wiped  out  the  seriousness 
of  the  offence  itself,  and,  as  she  rested  her  hand  lightly 
on  his  shoulder  while  she  dismounted,  she  nodded, 
"I'll  forgive  you  if  you'll  point  out  David  Camp- 
bell." 

"  There  he  is,  over  by  Sam  Gilfillan."        * 

"  I  see  him.  I  hope  you  enjoyed  your  ride ;  I  did. 
I'm  going  to  find  Jeanie  now." 

She  was  not  long  in  seeking  Jeanie  out,  and  she 
quickly  drew  her  to  one  side.  "  I  want  to  show  you 
something,  Jeanie.  Come  over  here."  She  was  so 
dimpling  with  repressed  amusement  that  Jeanie  fol- 
lowed, wondering.  "  Do  you  see  that  man  over  by  the 
sycamore  tree  ?  "  she  asked.  "  The  one  talking  to  Sam 
Gilfillan,  I  mean." 


88  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

"Yes,  I  see  him.  It  is  David  Campbell.  How  do 
you  come  to  know  him  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  him.     He's  the  one,  Jeanie." 

"The  one?     What?" 

"That  you  are  to  marry.  Isn't  he  just  as  I  de- 
scribed ? " 

"  Oh,  Agnes !  "  Jeanie  turned  scarlet.  "  You  naughty 
girl." 

"  Well,  then,  he  is.  Not  so  very  tall,  sandy  hair,  blue 
eyes,  quiet.  What  have  you  to  say  ?  " 

"  That  you  are  a  witch." 

"  And  you'll  lend  me  nothing  if  I  come  to  borrow." 

"  I'll  lend  you  anything." 

"  Except  David  Campbell ;  I  may  want  to  borrow  him 
sometimes." 

Jeanie  was  about  to  speak,  but  just  then  the  minister 
appeared,  and  a  decorous  line  of  worshippers  entered 
the  little  meeting-house.  What  it  was  that  Jeanie 
meant  to  say  Agnes  did  not  find  out;  but  it  was 
quite  true  that  during  the  long  service  Jeanie  stole 
more  than  one  glance  at  David  Campbell. 


CHAPTER  VI 

JEANIE'S  SECRET 

THE  summer  would  have  passed  happily  enough 
but  for  a  rumor  that  there  had  been  seen  some 
hostile  Indians  in  the  next  settlement ;  and  this  infor- 
mation so  affected  Fergus  Kennedy  that  he  became 
stricken  with  a  continual  fear,  and  was  powerless  to 
do  anything  but  cower,  rifle  in  hand,  in  the  corner 
of  the  cabin.  Brave  man  that  he  had  always  been, 
this  condition  seemed  the  more  pitiful  to  his  friends 
who  had  known  him  in  his  strength. 

"  It's  not  like  father,"  Agnes  told  Polly,  "  and  I  don't 
know  what  we  shall  do.  The  M 'Cleans  want  us  to 
leave  here  and  go  over  to  them,  but  who  then  will 
look  after  our  clearing  ?  " 

"Jerry  Hunter  'ud  do  it." 

"  Maybe  he  would,  but  I  don't  like  to  leave  here  just 
as  we  are  fairly  settled." 

"  It  'ud  be  safer ;  we're  no  so  near  to  neighbors,  and 
your  fayther  so  distracted."  Polly  pinched  her  chin 
thoughtfully.  "Then  there's  the  childer.  I'd  shoot 

89 


90  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

down  the  redskins,  and  shed  my  last  drop  of  blood  for 
'em ;  but  would  it  save  'em  if  the  beasts  came  ?  " 

"  Then  you  think  we  ought  to  go  to  the  garrison 
house  ? " 

"  It  would  be  safer.  I  don't  care  for  mysel',  Nancy ; 
but  when  I  think  of  Jimmy's  childer,  I  can't  peril  them ; 
for  what  would  he  say  when  he  comes  back,  and  finds 
them  gone  because  of  their  mother's  foolhardiness  ? " 

"  But  I  don't  like  the  fort  with  the  cabins  so  close 
together,  and  the  blockhouses  so  threatening  and  ugly. 
I  do  love  the  freedom  of  our  own  clearing.  I  don't  be- 
lieve the  Indians  have  an  idea  of  coming  here;  the 
settlement  is  too  big,  and  it  is  only  a  rumor  that  they 
have  been  seen  in  the  neighborhood.  I  think  we  might 
wait  awhile  and  enjoy  our  freedom." 

"  Land  o'  mercy,  Nancy  !  I'm  no  better  pleased  than 
you  to  go ;  but  if  there's  a  chance  of  our  being  in  dan- 
ger, we  must  be  on  the  safe  side.  I  am  as  daring  as  the 
next ;  but  I  must  say  when  we  beeta  have  Injuns  for 
visitors,  I  want  to  git  out." 

Therefore  Agnes  reluctantly  packed  up  the  things 
she  most  cared  for  —  her  favorite  wolfskin  that  Archie 
had  given  her  in  place  of  the  one  she  had  taken  such 
pride  in  at  the  first  settlement;  a  little  bowl  quaintly 
carved,  a  belt  ornamented  with  porcupine  quills,  and 
such  like  things.  Polly's  feather-beds  and  the  rest  of 
the  family  necessities  were  packed  on  two  horses,  and 
the  children  were  established  in  crates  at  the  sides  of 


JEANIE'S   SECRET  91 

these  beasts  of  burden ;  and  so  the  journey  was  taken 
to  the  fort,  now  the  centre  of  quite  a  large,  though 
scattered,  community. 

Several  families,  at  the  report  of  Indians  near,  had 
come  into  the  fort,  but  there  was  still  a  number  of  the 
clearings  occupied  by  those  who  did  not  easily  take 
alarm,  and  who  waited  for  a  confirmation  of  the  news 
before  they  should  leave  their  comfortable  quarters. 

Jeanie  insisted  that  Agnes  should  come  immediately 
to  her,  but  Agnes  refused  to  leave  her  father  altogether, 
though  she  spent  many  a  day  at  the  M'Cleans'  clearing, 
and  there  made  the  acquaintance  of  David  Campbell, 
who,  being  a  near  neighbor,  found  it  convenient  to  drop 
in  often,  despite  the  fact  that  Jeanie  obstinately  declared 
that  she  did  not  like  him. 

"  He  is  a  good  fellow,"  Agnes  insisted,  "  and  I  don't 
see  why  you  don't  like  him.  You  must  and  shall," 
which  was  a  sure  way  of  encouraging  Jeanie  in  her 
decision  not  to  like  him. 

"It  is  a  pity  Archie  is  your  brother,  for  then  you 
could  take  him  and  give  me  David,"  said  Agnes,  one 
day,  when  Jeanie  had  been  singing  Archie's  praises. 

"You  can  have  David  for  aught  I  care,"  returned 
Jeanie,  bridling. 

"  Do  you  say  so?  Well  then,  I'll  go  with  him  to 
meeting  next  Sabbath  day." 

"You'd  better  wait  till  he  asks  you,"  retorted 
Jeanie. 


92  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  Oh,  he'll  ask  me  fast  enough,"  Agnes  replied,  nod- 
ding her  head  with  an  air  of  conviction. 

Jeanie  bit  her  lip  but  said  nothing.  David  had  asked 
her  and  she  had  refused.  Like  most  girls  she  was  in 
a  contrary  frame  of  mind  when  it  came  to  a  question 
of  meeting  a  lover  halfway.  In  her  secret  heart  she 
was  only  too  anxious  to  accept  David's  company,  but 
she  would  not  have  Agnes  know  it  for  the  world,  and 
though  Agnes  made  many  sly  references  to  the  pleas- 
ures to  be  expected  upon  the  coming  Sabbath,  neither 
girl  was  particularly  jubilant  when  she  considered  it, 
though  of  the  two  Agnes  was  the  more  pleased.  She 
had  noted  Jeanie's  lofty  expression,  and  laughed  in  her 
sleeve  at  the  success  of  her  little  plot. 

Not  only  one  but  two  rather  disconsolate  members 
of  the  M' Clean  family  appeared  at  church  the  next 
Sabbath  day.  Not  relenting  in  her  determination  to 
tease  Jeanie,  as  well  as  to  punish  Archie  for  a  fit  of 
sulks  he  had  had  during  the  week,  Agnes  triumphantly 
had  her  way  and  led  David  to  offer  his  escort.  What 
did  she  care  if  heretofore  he  had  seemed  to  have  eyes 
and  ears  only  for  Jeanie  ?  She  would  let  Jeanie  see  that 
there  were  other  girls  beside  herself,  and  it  would  also 
raise  Archie's  estimation  of  her  if  he  knew  that  she 
could  walk  off  so  easily  with  another  girl's  lover,  so  she 
argued?  Very  adroitly  she  made  Jeanie  the  main  topic 
of  conversation,  so  that  David  was  entertained  greatly, 
and  the  two  were  chatting  like  old  friends  when  Jeanie 


JEANIE'S   SECRET  93 

and  Archie  passed  them  on  the  road.  David  was 
always  rather  silent  in  Jeanie's  company,  and  she  felt 
a  jealous  pang  as  she  noticed  how  ready  he  seemed  to 
talk  to  Agnes.  She  gave  the  two  a  stiff  little  nod 
as  she  passed,  and  Agnes  smiled  to  herself.  "  It's  all 
for  her  own  good,"  she  thought,  "  and  I  am  glad  I  could 
make  her  put  on  that  top-loftical  look.  As  for  Archie, 
he  looks  sour  enough,  but  I  don't  care."  She  had 
learned  some  of  Polly's  saucy  ways,  and  the  toss  of 
her  head  was  Polly's  own.  Yet  when  Mrs.  M 'Clean 
urged  her  and  David  to  come  home  with  her  to  supper, 
the  girl  was  nothing  loath,  and  indeed  was  mischievously 
curious  to  see  how  Jeanie  would  treat  her,  and  to  carry 
further  her  harmless  little  flirtation  with  David. 

The  M'Cleans  had  made  of  their  clearing  one  of  the 
most  comfortable  places  thereabouts.  Both  father  and 
son  had  a  genius  for  the  mechanic  arts,  so  that  they 
were  well  supplied  with  hominy  blocks,  hand-mills, 
tanning  vats,  looms,  and  such  affairs,  all  of  their  own 
manufacture,  and  though  rude  and  clumsy,  these  were 
well  adapted  to  their  needs.  The  house  was  more 
commodious  than  at  first,  having  besides  its  living 
room,  a  bedroom  on  the  first  floor  and  a  lean-to,  or 
kitchen.  A  loft  overhead  gave  two  or  three  sleeping 
rooms.  The  building,  floored  with  smooth  puncheons, 
and,  being  well  roofed  and  chinked,  was  very  comfort- 
able. Archie's  latest  achievement,  a  milk  bucket  hav- 
ing staves  alternately  red  and  white,  Jeanie  displayed 


94  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

with  great  pride,  and  though  Agnes  really  thought  it 
beautiful,  she  declared  that  it  was  too  gaudy. 

At  table  a  discussion  of  the  day's  services  was  con- 
sidered proper  and  fit,  the  sermon  being  the  chief  topic 
of  conversation.  Joseph  M'Clean  was  still  a  strict 
Presbyterian,  and  did  not  uphold  the  lapses  from  a 
serious  deportment  into  which  so  many  of  the  pioneers 
had  fallen.  He  was  bound  that  his  own  family  should 
be  "  releegious  and  orderly  on  the  Sabbath,  no  matter 
what  his  neighbors  did,"  and  so  the  Sabbath  evening 
was  passed  soberly  in  singing  psalms,  and  in  reading 
from  the  Bible,  and  in  discussing  at  great  length  the 
chapters  read.  Archie  quite  warmed  up  to  the  debate, 
but  David  had  little  to  say,  putting  in  only  a  word  now 
and  then,  his  eyes  between  times  upon  Jeanie,  who  had 
treated  him  with  a  cold  scorn  all  day. 

It  was  when  the  two  girls  wen!  up  to  their  loft  room 
to  prepare  for  bed  that  Jeanie  had  her  say.  She,  too, 
had  been  very  quiet,  for  Agnes  had  lured  David  over 
to  her  side  upon  the  settle,  and  had  ignored  Archie 
entirely. 

"  I  think  you  treat  Archie  too  badly,"  said  Jeanie, 
shaking  down  her  dark  locks  of  hair. 

"  Oh,  no,  you  mean  I  treat  David  too  well,"  returned 
Agnes,  saucily. 

"  What  do  I  care  how  you  treat  David  ?  " 

"You  care  a  great  deal;  confess  that  you  do,  and  I'll 
not  treat  him  so  well." 


JEANIE'S   SECRET  95 

"  I'll  not  confess." 

"Very  well,  you  shall  be  tortured  till  you  do." 
"  You  are  a  heartless  girl,  Nancy  Kennedy." 
"  Indeed,  then,  I'm  not ;  I  am  too  soft  hearted." 
"Then  why  do  you  turn   a   cold   shoulder   to    poor 
Archie?" 

" '  I'm  ower  young  to  marry,'  and  Archie  does  try  one 
with  his  talk  of  what  he  means  to  do  when  he  is 
twenty-one." 

"Just  think  what  fine  buckets  and  bowls  he  could 
make  you,  Nancy.  There  would  be  no  one  anywhere 
about  who  could  make  such  a  display  as  you." 

"As  if  I'd  trade  my  heart  for  a  red  and  white 
bucket;  I'm  not  an  Indian  squaw  to  be  bought  with 
trinkets." 

"  And  Archie  doesn't  think  so.  It  was  only  I  who 
said  that.  Archie  is  very  modest." 

"  He's  well  aware  of  his  own  good  traits.  He  will 
make  a  good  meenister,  and  I'm  no  one  to  hanker  after 
being  a  meenister's  wife." 

"  You  ought  to  feel  honored  if  ever  you  are." 
"  Maybe,  but  I  think,  as  I  said  before,  I  am  ower 
young."  She  put  on  an  innocent,  childlike  expression, 
and  gave  a  side  glance  at  Jeanie.  "  David  can  make 
fine  bowls,  too,  and  he  is  to  make  me  one,  and,  more- 
over, he  is  going  to  tan  a  famous  bearskin  for  me." 
She  gave  her  information  carelessly  and  laughed  at  the 
"  Oh !  "  that  it  extracted  from  Jeanie.  "  You  must  learo 


96  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

from  the  Indians  not  to  make  a  sound  when  you're 
being  tortured,"  she  said  calmly.  "  I'll  tell  you  some- 
thing else,  and  see  if  you  can't  do  better.  David's 
mare  goes  beautifully,  and  I  am  to  try  her  some  day. 
He  will  borrow  another,  and  we  are  going  to  —  to  —  " 
She  peeped  around  at  Jeanie  who  had  averted  her  head 
and  whose  face  was  buried  in  her  hands. 

"  You  didn't  make  a  sound,"  Agnes  went  on,  trying 
to  unclasp  her  friend's  closely  locked  fingers.  "You 
are  getting  on  famously."  She  laughed  softly  as  she 
finally  pulled  away  the  resisting  hands  from  Jeanie's 
face.  "  Do  you  hate  me,  Jeanie  ?  " 

"  No,"  came  reluctantly. 

"  Because  it's  wicked  to  hate  people,  or  because  it 
is  I,  and  you  can't  help  loving  me  even  if  I  do  tease 
you?" 

Jeanie  made  no  answer. 

"  Will  you  confess  ?  Will  you  say  that  you  like 
David  better  than  any  one  in  the  whole  wide  world  ?  " 

Jeanie  shook  her  head  decidedly. 

"  Peggy  Wilson  said  that  David  was  a  fine  lad,  and  I 
was  in  luck  to  get  ahead  of  you." 

Jeanie  never  stirred. 

"  And  Phil  Beatty  came  up  when  we  were  going  to 
mount  to  ride  home,  and  he  said,  '  When  you  give  your 
housewarming,  Dave,  count  on  me ;  you'll  be  wanting 
some  one  to  help  you  if  you're  going  to  add  to  your 
house  soon,'  and  David  laughed ;  and  when  he  put  me 


JEANIE'S   SECRET  97 

on  the  horse,  I  vow  he  squeezed  my  hand.  I  think 
I  like  David  very  much,  and  as  long  as  you  don't  care 
for  him  —  why  —  there  would  be  nothing  wrong  in  lik- 
ing him,  would  there  ?  Now  if  I  had  tried  to  attract 
him  behind  your  back  and  without  learning  whether 
you  wanted  him  or  not,  that  would  be  another  thing, 
and  it  would  be  too  dishonorable  to  think  of,  but  as  it  is 
—  let  me  see  —  he  is  twenty  and  I  am  now  sixteen  ;  in 
another  year  I  might  like  him  well  enough.  Do  we 
look  well  together,  Jeanie  ?  I  ask  only  on  my  own 
account,  since  you  don't  admire  David.  David  —  it  is 
a  nice  name,  isn't  it  ?  Mrs.  David  Campbell,  I  wonder 
how  I  should  like  to  be  known  as  that." 

Jeanie  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  flung  Agnes's  hand 
from  her.  "  You  are  a  mean,  aggravating  girl.  I  don't 
love  you,  if  you  want  to  know.  I  wish  I  had  never  seen 
you."  And  she  burst  into  tears. 

"  Now,  haven't  I  gone  and  done  it ! "  exclaimed 
Agnes.  "  But  still — now  don't  cry,  Jeanie — still  if  you 
don't  care  for  David,  why  can't  you  let  me  have  him  ? " 

"  I  do  care,"  sobbed  Jeanie,  "if  that  satisfies  you  —  if 
you  like  to  be  a  fiendish  Indian  and  torture  my  secrets 
out  of  me." 

"  Was  it  a  secret  ? " 

"You  know  it  was.  You  know  you  had  no  right  to 
tease  it  out  of  me  when  I  didn't  want  to  tell  it.  You 
know  it  was  cruel." 

"  I  didn't  know.     I  forgot  you  might  want  to  keep  it 


98  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

even  from  me,  and  that  I  hadn't  any  right  to  make  you 
tell  me.  I  forgot  everything  except  that  I  was  bound 
to  make  you  acknowledge  that  I  had  prophesied  truly. 
I  did  that,"  she  added,  half  in  triumph,  though  she  was 
really  much  subdued.  She  went  close  to  Jeanie,  and 
attempted  to  put  her  arm  around  her  friend,  but  Jeanie 
pushed  her  away.  Agnes  grew  more  penitent  as  she 
realized  how  deeply  she  had  offended,  and  she  stood 
the  picture  of  contrition.  "  I'm  so  sorry,  Jeanie,"  she 
said,  after  a  pause  in  which  only  Jeanie's  sobs  could  be 
heard.  "  I'll  never,  never  tell  any  one.  I  will  not, 
truly.  I  see  now  I  was  very  wicked  to  tease  you  so, 
but  I  know  David  likes  you  better  than  anybody,  and  — 
please  be  friends  and  I'll  tell  you  why  he  seemed  to  like 
being  with  me  —  I  talked  about  you  all  the  time." 

At  this  Jeanie  raised  her  head.  "  Are  you  telling  me 
the  truth,  Nancy  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  am.  You  shouldn't  say  that  even  if  I 
have  teased  you.  You  know  I  always  tell  the  truth." 

"  How  came  you  to  think  of  that  —  of  talking  about 
me  ?  " 

"  Because  — "  It  was  Agnes's  turn  to  hang  her 
head.  "You  said  once  when  you  wanted  to  please 
Archie  and  get  him  to  do  anything  for  you  that  you 
had  but  to  talk  of  me." 

"  Then  —  now  tell  me  the  truth,  since  you  know  my 
secret  —  do  you  like  Archie  ?  " 

"Yes — I    like  him,  but  I  do  not  like  to  think  of 


JEANIE'S   SECRET  99 

marrying  any  one.  I  will  not  think  of  it  till  I  see  my 
mother  again." 

"  But  we  are  as  old  as  our  mothers  were  when  they 
were  married." 

"  Yes,  and  older  than  Polly,  who  was  but  fifteen,  and 
is  now  only  twenty-four.  But  I  want  to  wait,  so  don't 
fash  me  about  it,  Jeanie,  till  my  mother  comes.  I  am 
in  no  haste." 

"  No  more  am  I,  though  I  — I  —  " 

"Yes,  I  know;  you  —  you — will  wait  for  David,  and 
you  will  not  have  long  to  wait  if  you  but  give  him  half  a 
chance." 

At  this  Jeanie  put  her  arms  around  Agnes  and  peace 
was  concluded,  Agnes  feeling  that  though  she  had 
gained  her  point,  it  was  at  the  sorry  cost  of  a  bit  of  her 
own  self-respect,  and  she  felt  ashamed  at  having  pressed 
Jeanie  so  hard  as  to  make  her  give  up  the  secret  which 
was  her  own  dear  girlish  dream.  She  determined  at  once 
that  she  would  do  all  that  she  could  to  make  matters 
easy  for  the  pair,  and  that  they  should  never  have 
reason  to  reproach  her  for  a  lack  of  friendship. 

The  Indian  alarm  came  to  nothing,  yet  because  of 
her  father  Agnes  was  glad  to  stay  at  the  fort  all  sum- 
mer, though  she  longed  for  the  little  cabin  and  for  the 
time  when  her  mother  should  come.  How  long  it 
seemed  since  she  left  her  old  home  and  started  forth 
to  this  new  Ohio  country.  It  had  been  a  month  or 
more  since  she  had  been  down  to  the  little  clearing 


100  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

to  which  she  and  Polly  hoped  soon  to  return,  for  now 
the  cold  weather  would  soon  set  in  and  the  danger 
from  Indians  would  be  over.  Archie,  who  had  ridden 
by  frequently,  reported  all  in  good  order,  and  they 
concluded  that  Jerry  Hunter  must  be  there,  as  Archie 
had  seen  smoke  coming  from  the  chimney  on  more 
than  one  occasion.  "  I  didn't  go  in,"  he  told  Agnes, 
"for  it  seemed  all  in  first-rate  condition." 

"  That's  good  to  know,"  Agnes  returned.  "  I 
dreaded  to  see  it  looking  dilapidated,  and,  besides,  —  " 
she  hesitated,  "  I  didn't  know  but  that  Humphrey  Muir- 
head  might  have  tried  to  do  some  damage  to  the  place, 
knowing  we  were  away." 

"  I  don't  know  that  he  does  know  it ;  he  has  been 
keeping  pretty  quiet  lately.  I  suppose  he  feels  safe, 
and  knows  that  you  will  not  trouble  him  again." 

"  I  wish  I  could." 

Archie  smiled.  "  It  would  only  be  worse  for  you  if 
you  did.  Faith,  Agnes,  in  this  country  where  there's 
land  enough,  and  to  spare,  why  do  you  hanker  after 
Naboth's  vineyard?" 

"  If  it  were  Naboth's  vineyard,  I  wouldn't  hanker, 
for  I'd  have  no  right  to,  but  I  feel,  and  always  shall 
feel,  that  grandfather  intended  my  mother  to  have  that 
place.  It  is  the  best  about  here.  He  put  time  and 
money  in  it,  and  the  house  is  such  a  good  roomy  one, 
while  the  farm  is  cleared  far  more  than  most  of  the 
others,  and  one  could  make  a  good  living  from  it.  If 


JEANIE'S   SECRET,,  ..,•'.          ,*,  -IOI 


we  could  have  the  place  all  so '"w^ll.  cleared,  'wit 
truck  patch  and  the  orchard  and  "all  that;  wd  -ioiild  send ' 
for  mother  at  once.  But  now  that  father  cannot  work 
as  heartily  as  he  once  did,  it  will  be  years  before  we 
can  hope  to  have  as  good  a  place  as  that." 

"  I  should  have  your  mother  come,  anyhow,  if  I  were 
you." 

"  Oh,  I  mean  to  have  her  come  as  soon  as  there  is  a 
chance  for  her  to  find  company  this  far.  I  have  sent 
her  word.  Our  little  cabin  is  small,  to  be  sure,  and 
with  two  families  in  it  we  shall  be  crowded,  but  we  are 
going  to  add  a  lean-to,  and  I  don't  doubt  but  that  we 
can  get  along  after  a  fashion." 

"  I  wish  you  would  remember  that  I  shall  soon  be 
ready  to  take  one  member  of  the  family  away  to 
another  home,"  said  Archie,  pointedly.  Agnes,  for 
answer,  gave  a  shrug  of  her  shoulders  and  walked 
away.  She  did  not  care  to  bring  up  that  question. 

It  was  a  crisp,  clear  morning  —  the  last  of  Novem- 
ber—  when  the  family  returned  to  the  cabin.  There 
were  evidences  to  be  seen  of  a  man's  presence  when 
they  entered  the  door.  A  pipe  lay  on  the  table,  a  pair 
of  shoepacks  on  the  floor,  a  book,  half  open,  had  been 
tossed  on  the  settle.  Agnes  took  in  all  these  details. 
"Jerry  is  still  here,"  she  remarked,  "but  I  didn't  know 
he  ever  touched  a  book." 

"  Never  mind  the  book,  or  what  he  touches,"  said 
Polly ;  "  we've  got  to  stir  our  stumps  and  get  these 


102  ;  ;A<  GENTLE   PIONEER 

things-  <of.« ours-  where  Ihey  belong.  Where's  your 
lather  P-^'^ 

"  He's  gone  out  to  the  truck  patch." 

"  So  much  the  better.  We  shan't  need  him  till  meal- 
time. By  then  Jerry  will  be  back,  I'm  thinking.  Trust 
the  men  for  bein'  on  hand  when  the  vittles  is  on  the 
table." 

But  it  was  not  till  they  were  snugly  settled  in  bed 
that  night  that  they  heard  the  sound  of  some  one  at  the 
door  which  Agnes  had  securely  bolted.  She  gave  Polly 
a  gentle  shake  and  whispered,  "  There's  some  one  at 
the  door,  Polly ;  I  expect  it's  Jerry." 

"Whist!"  said  Polly.  "Don't  wake  your  fayther, 
though  he  do  sleep  that  heavy  you  could  fire  off  a  gun 
in  the  room  and  it  wouldn't  stir  him.  I'll  go  to  the 
door  and  ask  who  it  is."  She  suited  the  action  to 
the  word  and  put  the  question,  "Is  it  yersel',  Jerry?" 

"  No,"  was  the  reply  in  an  unfamiliar  voice.  "  Who 
are  you,  and  what  are  you  doing  in  my  house  ? " 

Polly  drew  back.  "  The  man's  stark,  starin'  mad  !  " 
she  exclaimed.  "  What's  he  doin'  wanderin'  about  with- 
out a  kaper  ? " 

"  Don't  let  him  in  !  Don't  let  him  in  !  "  cried  Agnes. 
"  See  that  the  window's  shut,  Polly,  do." 

But  Polly's  curiosity  got  the  best  of  her,  and  she 
went  to  the  window  to  peer  out.  The  man  was 
fumbling  at  the  door,  trying  to  get  it  unfastened. 
Failing  in  this  he  went  toward  the  window.  Polly 


JEANIE'S   SECRET  103 

quickly  slammed  to  the  wooden  shutter,  at  the  same 
time  crying  out,  "  Get  out  of  here  wid  ye,  and  do  it 
quick." 

"  I'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  came  the  reply.  "  This 
is  my  house,  and  naturally  I  should  like  to  get  into  it." 

Polly  opened  the  shutter  a  crack.  "  Who  says  it  is 
your  house  ? "  she  asked. 

"  I've  been  living  here  for  a  month,  and  it's  mine  by 
good  right.  The  people  who  used  to  live  here  have 
gone  back  east,  as  perhaps  you  know,  and  as  I  came 
here  before  you  did,  I  have  the  best  right  to  the  place. 
First  come,  first  served,  you  know.  If  you  don't  let  me 
in  by  the  door,  I  will  have  to  climb  in  by  one  of  the 
windows.  Where's  your  husband  ?  Perhaps  he'll  listen 
to  reason." 

"  It's  mesel'  who'd  be  glad  to  know  where  he  is," 
returned  Polly,  seriously,  "and  I'd  be  glad  if  you'd  tell 
me." 

The  man  gave  a  little  chuckle. 

Agnes  by  this  time  had  drawn  near  to  Polly  and  was 
listening. 

"  I  don't  believe  he's  crazy,  Polly,"  she  whispered  ; 
"he's  only  impudent.  Shall  I  call  father?" 

"  No,  I'll  manage  him,"  returned  Polly,  coolly.  "  Let 
him  try  to  get  in  wanst,  an'  I'll  make  it  hot  for  him. 
If  he's  not  a  crazy  man  nor  an  Injun,  I'm  not  afraid 
to  tackle  him." 

The  man  was  now  occupied  in  wresting  the  leathern 


104  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

hinges  of  the  shutters  from  their  fastenings,  and  seemed 
likely  to  succeed.  It  would  be  easy  enough  then  to  cut 
through  the  piece  of  linen  which,  smeared  with  bear's 
oil,  served  in  lieu  of  window-glass. 

"  You  stop  right  there,"  cried  Polly,  "  or  I'll  give  you 
a  taste  of  shot.  The  best  thing  for  you  is  to  mount  yer 
hoss,  or  if  you  haven't  one,  to  go  foot-back  if  you  like 
to  where  you  came  from,  for  go  you  shall,  or  you'll  be 
sorry." 

There  was  no  answer  but  the  bang  of  the  shutter 
as  it  fell  from  its  hinges.  Polly's  temper  was  up,  and 
without  further  ado  she  snatched  up  her  rifle  from  its 
accustomed  corner.  There  was  a  flash,  a  report,  a 
heavy  fall,  and  Polly  backed  away  from  the  window, 
while  Agnes  sank  to  the  floor  covering  her  face  with 
her  hands. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  INTRUDER 

IT  was  some  weeks  later  that  the  gaunt  form  of  a 
young  man  might  have  been  seen  stretched  on  the 
bed  in  one  of  the  loft  rooms.  The  place  was  very  still. 
Upon  the  homespun  curtains  at  the  small  window  the 
flickering  play  of  light  and  shade  showed  forth  the 
drawing  of  a  pine  tree's  branches.  An  array  of  bowls 
and  cups  stood  upon  a  small  table  and  the  small  room 
bore  the  appearance  of  having  been  used  for  some  time 
by  one  used  to  nursing  a  very  ill  patient. 

Presently  the  young  man  opened  his  eyes  wearily  and 
looked  around  the  room.  He  was  very  white  and  wan. 
His  dark  hair,  which  had  been  cropped  close,  was  be- 
ginning to  grow  out  in  little  wavy  locks  about  his  fore- 
head. He  lifted  his  hand  feebly,  and  looked  at  its 
transparent  thinness.  "  Where  am  I  ? "  he  asked 
weakly. 

At  his  words  Polly  came  forward  and  observed  him 
closely.  "  Praise  God,  yer  yersel'  again  !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Now  don't  say  a  word,  me  lad.  Drink  this,  and  go  to 
sleep." 

105 


106  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

The  young  man  gazed  at  her  wonderingly,  but  he 
obeyed  so  far  as  to  drink  from  the  cup  which  she  held 
to  his  lips.  "  I  don't  want  to  go  to  sleep.  I  want  to 
know  where  I  am,"  he  persisted.  "  It  looks  natural  and 
yet  it  doesn't." 

Polly  set  down  her  cup  and  smiled,  the  young  man 
regarding  her  silently  but  with  evident  surprise.  He 
took  in  every  detail  of  her  rough  dress ;  he  noted  the 
thick  hair  which  swept  back  in  pretty  curves  from  the 
low  forehead,  the  steady  gray  eyes  with  their  long  dark 
lashes,  the  firm  red  lips.  He  closed  his  eyes,  but  opened 
them  again,  almost  immediately.  "  You're  still  here," 
he  said  ;  "  I  thought  you  were  a  dream." 

Polly  smiled  again.  "I'm  a  purty  substantial  dream. 
Do  you  feel  better  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so ;  only  I  don't  know  what  has  been 
the  matter.  Where  am  I  ?  What  has  happened  ?  " 

Polly  shook  her  head.  "  Don't  try  to  remember. 
You  are  here  in  good  hands.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to 
obey  orders  and  try  to  get  well  and  strong." 

"  I  begin  to  remember."  The  patient  spoke  slowly  as 
if  recalling,  gradually,  certain  events.  "  I  came  home 
and  couldn't  get  in  ;  then  somebody  fired  at  me."  He 
looked  at  Polly  inquiringly,  and  the  blood  mounted  to 
the  very  roots  of  her  hair. 

"Yes,  but  you  must  wait  till  you  are  stronger  to  hear 
all  about  it,"  she  told  him.  "We  do  not  know  your 
name,  and  you  do  not  know  us.  I  am  Polly  O'Neill  \ 


THE   INTRUDER  IO/ 

that's  enough  for  you  to  know  at  one  time.  We'll  talk 
about  the  hows  and  whys  later." 

She  left  the  room  and  went  downstairs  where  she  at 
once  sought  out  Agnes,  beckoning  to  her  with  a  look  of 
mystery.  "  He's  got  his  mind  again,"  she  said.  "  Now, 
what's  to  be  done  ?  Do  you  suppose  he'll  be  telling  it 
around  that  Polly  O'Neill  made  a  target  of  him  ? " 

"  Of  course  not.  When  we  explain  that  he  was 
breaking  into  our  house,  he  will  be  glad  enough  to  keep 
quiet  about  it ;  and  if  he  does  not,  I  think  we  shall  have 
our  own  story  to  tell,  and  it  will  be  believed."  Agnes 
gave  her  head  a  toss  and  Polly  laughed. 

"Very  well,  then,"  said  the  latter,  "since  you  are  so 
high  an'  mighty  about  it,  suppose  you  go  up  with  this 
dish  of  porridge  an'  see  what  he  has  to  say  for  himself." 

"Ah,  but,  Polly  — " 

"  No  ah  buts ;  go  right  along,"  and  Polly  gave  her  a 
good-humored  push  toward  the  table  where  the  bowl  of 
porridge  stood. 

"  He's  a  young  man,"  said  Agnes,  still  hesitating. 

"  Yes,  and  good  looking  and  nice  spoken.  He'll  not 
bite  you,"  returned  Polly,  blandly.  "  Go  along  with 
your  porridge  before  it  gets  cold;  and  if  he  wants  to 
talk,  let  him." 

Agnes,  with  bowl  in  hand,  slowly  mounted  the  stairs 
to  the  loft.  On  Polly's  best  feather-bed,  covered  warmly 
with  skins,  lay  the  wounded  man.  His  eyes  were  closed, 
but,  at  the  sound  of  Agnes's  gentle  voice,  he  opened 


108  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

them.  "  Here  is  some  porridge  for  you,"  the  girl 
said. 

"Thank  you,  but  I  don't  care  for  it." 

"  You  must  take  it.  Polly  says  so.  She  is  the  best 
nurse  in  the  world." 

The  young  man  smiled.  "  Well,  if  Polly  says  so,  I 
suppose  that  settles  it.  Will  you  bring  it  close,  and 
may  I  ask  you  to  raise  my  head  a  little  ? " 

Agnes  pushed  the  pillow  further  under  his  shoulders 
and  raised  his  head,  holding  the  bowl  while  he  drank  his 
gruel. 

"  I'd  like  to  sit  up  a  little.  I  want  to  look  out,"  said 
the  young  man. 

Agnes  made  a  roll  of  some  skins  which  she  brought 
from  the  next  room,  and  by  their  aid  he  was  propped 
up ;  then  she  drew  aside  the  curtain  from  the  little  win- 
dow and  stood  waiting. 

"  It  is  good  to  see  the  outside  world  again,"  he  said. 
"  It  is  familiar  enough.  I  think  it  is  time  for  explana- 
tions. Will  you  tell  me  how  I  came  to  be  here,  and  why 
you  are  here,  and  who  you  all  are  ?  I've  had  glimpses  of 
the  reality  of  it  all,  though  I  suppose  my  mind  has  been 
wandering  a  bit,  too.  How  long  have  I  been  in  this  bed  ? " 

"  Nearly  three  weeks." 

The  young  man  gave  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  and 
then,  with  a  gentle  wave  of  his  hand,  he  said,  "  Don't 
stand."  Agnes  drew  up  a  low  stool.  She  was  not  very 
used  to  courtly  ways  and  they  embarrassed  her,  so  she 


SHE   DREW   ASIDE  THE  CURTAIN    FROM   THE   LITTLE  WINDOW. 


THE   INTRUDER  109 

sat  looking  down  at  her  brown  hands  folded  on  her  lap, 
and  wished  she  could  think  of  some  excuse  to  take  her 
downstairs. 

For  some  time  there  was  silence,  the  girl  feeling  con- 
scious that  she  was  being  steadfastly  regarded  by  a  pair 
of  big  brown  eyes. 

"  I  remember  now,"  the  young  man  broke  the  silence 
by  saying.  "  I  have  seen  you  before,  and  that  good 
woman  you  speak  of  as  Polly  called  you  Nancy.  That 
is  one  of  the  things  I  remember.  I  don't  know  what 
came  next,  for  I  drifted  off  into  that  dreamy  world  I 
have  been  in  for  so  long." 

"  Yes,  almost  every  one  calls  me  Nancy,  but  my  name 
is  Agnes,  Agnes  Kennedy." 

"  It  is  a  pretty  name.  Mine  is  Parker  Willett.  The 
boys  call  me  Park.  Now  will  you  tell  me  how  long  you 
have  lived  here  and  something  about  yourself  ? " 

"We  came  from  near  Carlisle,  Pennsylvania.  My 
father  had  to  give  up  our  old  home,  and  we  came  out 
here  together  more  than  a  year,  nearly  two  years,  ago. 
We  lived  for  a  time  in  another  settlement,  but  it  was 
raided  by  the  Indians  and  most  of  the  houses  were 
burned.  My  father  was  badly  hurt  at  the  same  time, 
and  he  has  never  been  the  same  since.  Some  of  our 
good  friends  were  coming  this  way,  and  my  mother's 
father  some  years  ago  settled  not  very  far  from  Marietta. 
He  left  some  property  that  we  thought  belonged  to  my 
mother,  so  we  were  going  right  there,  but  some  one  else 


1 10  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

claims  it.  Then  Polly  came,  and  we  took  up  this  land 
and  built  this  little  cabin ;  but  when  summer  came,  we 
were  afraid  of  the  Indians,  and  went  back  to  the  fort. 
We  stayed  there  till  we  thought  it  would  be  safe  to 
come  back  here,  and  so  we  came." 

"  And  found  your  home  had  been  occupied  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  we  thought  it  was  Jerry  Hunter  who  had 
been  here.  He  said  he  would  come  and  look  after 
things  once  in  a  while." 

"  It  was  I,  you  see." 

"  Yes.  What  did  you  do  it  for  ?  It  wasn't  right  to 
try  to  steal  the  home  from  other  people." 

"  No,  it  wasn't ;  but  you  see  I  didn't  know  I  was 
stealing.  I  feel  very  much  mortified  that  I  should  have 
persisted  in  getting  in.  It  was  this  way  :  a  man  named 
Muirhead,  over  across  the  river,  told  me  that  if  I  were 
looking  for  a  good  place  to  settle  that  I  could  find  it 
here,  for  there  were  some  persons  who  had  come  from 
Pennsylvania  and  had  put  up  a  cabin  and  had  begun  to 
clear  up,  but  they  had  given  up  the  place  and  had  gone 
back  home,  and  I  could  have  the  place  for  the  taking. 
I  came  over  here  and  explored,  and  found  it  just  as  he 
said  —  the  house  shut  up,  and  things  pretty  well  cleared 
out,  so  I  took  possession."  He  paused.  "  I  was  mis- 
led, because  he  said  it  was  a  man  and  his  daughter, 
a  young  slip  of  a  girl  who  couldn't  stand  the  rough 
country." 

"  You  say  Muirhead  was  the  name  ?  " 


THE   INTRUDER  III 

"  Yes." 

Agnes  gave  her  head  a  defiant  shake.  "  We  might 
have  known  it,"  she  said. 

"He  told  me  further  that  he  was  in  a  position  to 
know,  because  the  people  were  relatives  of  his,  and  he 
had  a  half-interest  in  the  place,  but  that  there  was 
plenty  of  land  nearer  home,  and  he'd  not  stand  at  that. 
I  wondered  a  little,  but  it  seemed  all  right,  as  he 
appeared  to  know  all  about  it,  and  referred  me  to  some 
persons  who  said  he  was  all  right  and  that  he  had  lived 
here  all  his  life.  I  thought  myself  lucky  to  get  a 
place  where  there  was  already  a  house  built,  and  did 
not  inquire  further.  I  expected  to  stay  till  I  should 
find  a  piece  of  land  I  wanted  to  buy,  and  I  would 
have  paid  Muirhead  rent." 

Agnes  was  silent  for  a  little  while,  then  she  said, 
"Then  this  Muirhead  is  not  a  friend  of  yours?" 

"  No,  an  acquaintance  merely.  I  was  directed  to  him 
by  some  one  who  said  he  knew  all  about  the  country, 
having  been  born  and  brought  up  near  by." 

"  So  he  was.  He  is  my  mother's  half-brother,  and  I 
think  he  would  do  anything  to  injure  us.  Every  one 
says  he  has  a  right  to  the  property  on  which  he  is  liv- 
ing, but  I  don't  think  so.  He  certainly  ought  not  to 
have  more  than  half,  yet  he  takes  it  all,  and  I  know  my 
grandfather  would  have  given  my  mother  a  share  of 
whatever  he  had.  But  there  is  no  use  trying  to  fight  it. 
I  am  only  a  girl,  and  father  is  not  in  a  state  to  help,  so 


112  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

there  is  no  one  to  do  anything  about  it,  but  I  feel  sure 
that  Humphrey  Muirhead  is  trying  to  get  us  from  the 
neighborhood,  and  he'll  do  everything  against  us,  and 
that  is  why  he  sent  you  here." 

"  I  see,"  said  Parker  Willett,  smiling,  "though  I  think 
it  was  decidedly  against  me,  too,  as  it  turned  out." 

"  It  was  too  bad  that  you  should  have  suffered  by  his 
wickedness,  though  I  didn't  mean  that  exactly  as  it 
sounded." 

"  I  know  that.  It  is  really  the  result  of  my  own  folly. 
I  ought  to  have  made  further  investigation,  and  I  ought 
to  have  been  less  determined  to  get  in.  I  lost  my  tem- 
per, and  Polly,  you  know  —  her  voice  is  not  reassuring." 

Agnes  laughed.  "  Dear  Polly !  her  voice  does  go 
through  one  sometimes." 

"  So  does  her  shot,"  returned  Parker,  with  a  wry  face. 

"  She  feels  very  sorry,"  said  Agnes,  "though  she  says 
you  brought  it  on  yourself." 

"  So  I  did.     I  acknowledge  that." 

"  She  is  a  good  shot,  and  it  is  a  mercy  you  were  not 
killed.  Now  don't  you  think  you'd  better  lie  down 
again  ? " 

It  was  quite  evident  that  the  patient  was  ready  for  a 
change  of  position,  and  Agnes,  having  made  him  com- 
fortable, went  down  to  Polly  full  of  the  information  that 
had  just  been  given  her. 

Polly  listened  attentively  to  what  Agnes  had  to  tell 
her.  "  I'd  like  to  have  Hump  Muirhead  on  the  end  of 


THE   INTRUDER  113 

this  fork,"  she  said,  brandishing  her  flesh  fork  in  her 
hand.  "I'd  roast  him  over  the  coals,  would  I." 

"  Oh,  Polly,  you're  as  bad  as  the  Indians." 

"  Am  I  then  ?  I  am  not.  But  a  bad  man  needs  a 
gridiron  and  brimstone;  he'll  get  it  yet." 

"  Oh,  Polly  !  "  Agnes's  shocked  voice  exclaimed  again. 

"Never  you  mind,"  Polly  went  on;  "he'll  get  his 
deserts  yet."  She  sat  for  some  time  nursing  her  knees 
before  the  fire  and  then  she  burst  out  with  :  "  I'm  think- 
ing, Nancy,  that  it  'ud  be  no  so  bad  a  thing  to  keep 
that  young  man  with  us  when  he  gets  well,  and  bechune 
us  we  may  be  able  to  trick  that  Muirhead  yet." 

"  But,  Polly,  we  don't  know  anything  about  him,  and 
how  can  we  tell  that  he  is  a  good  man,  or  that  we'd 
like  to  have  a  perfect  stranger  to  come  right  into  the 
family  ? " 

"  Now  isn't  that  like  a  cautious  Scot  ? "  said  Polly. 
"  I  suppose  ye'd  be  wantin'  his  character  from  his 
meenister,  and  another  from  his  townfolks  before  ye'd 
give  him  the  hand  o'  friendship.  He's  from  Virginny, 
I  kin  tell  by  his  trick  of  speakin',  and  he's  a  gentle- 
man." 

"  I  think  he  is  a  gentleman,"  said  Agnes,  thought- 
fully, "  for  he  is  much  more  polite  than  the  lads  about 
here." 

"  He's  new  to  the  place  ;  he'll  forgit  it,  give  him  time," 
said  Polly,  complacently.  "  I'll  not  be  long  in  fmdhY 
out  whether  he's  worth  the  keepin'  or  no."  And  in 


114  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

truth  she  laid  her  plans  so  well  that  by  the  time  the 
winter  was  over,  Parker  Willett  had  become  a  member  of 
the  household.  All  his  chivalric  spirit  was  roused  for 
the  brave  Polly,  though  she  had  been  the  cause  of  his 
long  weeks  of  pain  and  weakness,  and  at  first  he  felt 
inclined  to  resent  any  advances  on  Polly's  part.  But  her 
unfailing  good  humor  and  kindliness,  and  the  hopeful 
spirit  which  bade  her  never  give  up  looking  for  her 
missing  husband,  won  his  heart.  Then,  too,  he  felt  a 
strange  pity  for  Agnes,  the  young  and  helpless  girl,  so 
tender  and  devoted  to  her  gentle  father.  Wild  as  a 
hawk  was  Agnes  growing  under  Polly's  independent 
example,  yet  she  was  always  womanly,  sweet,  and  tender 
where  her  father  was  concerned.  She  might  ride  bare- 
back on  a  wild  young  colt ;  she  might  go  forth  like  a 
young  Amazon,  pistol  in  belt  and  knife  in  hand,  but 
she  would  come  back,  fling  herself  from  her  horse,  and 
sit  down  by  her  father  gentle  as  a  little  child,  trying  to 
entertain  him  by  talking  of  the  dear  old  times. 

"  Agnes  is  a  good  little  girl,"  Mr.  Kennedy  would 
say.  And  Parker,  who  an  hour  before  had  seen  this 
same  Agnes  stamping  her  foot  at  Polly,  and  in  a  rage 
at  Jerry  Hunter  because  he  failed  to  do  something  she 
had  requested,  would  smile  to  himself.  "  Poor  little 
lass,  she  needs  her  mother,"  was  what  Fergus  Kennedy 
would  say  if  Agnes  were  caught  in  one  of  her  rages. 
"Where  is  your  mother? "  he  would  ask  her  wistfully. 

Then  would  Agnes  fly  to  him  all  gentleness,  the  fire 


THE   INTRUDER  115 

dying  out  of  her  eyes,  and  her  voice  as  soft  as  a  dove's. 
"  She's  comin'  father,  dear,"  she  would  tell  him.  "  You 
know  we  have  sent  for  her,  and  she  will  come  very, 
very  soon.  And  Sandy  and  Margret  and  Jock  and 
Jessie,  —  you  remember,  father, — they'll  all  be  coming 
along  before  long."  Then  she  would  look  at  Parker,  as 
if  to  say,  "  Don't  you  dare  to  contradict."  And  the 
young  man  would  not  for  the  world  have  borne  her 
a  moment's  ill-will,  though  he  might  have  been  think- 
ing her  a  little  hypocrite  and  a  lawless  young  creature 
who  should  be  well  lectured.  As  time  went  on  they 
had  many  tiffs,  for  Parker  loved  to  tease,  and  Agnes 
would  brook  no  contradictions  from  any  one  but  her 
father.  Indeed,  Jeanie  M 'Clean  said  she  was  no  more 
like  the  lass  she  used  to  be  back  there  at  home,  so 
gentle,  so  well  behaved,  and  she  did  not  see  what  had 
come  over  her. 

"It's  all  Polly  O'Neill's  doings,"  she  declared  to 
Archie,  but  Archie  frowned  and  said  Agnes  was  well 
enough,  and  that  she  had  a  right  to  say  what  she  liked. 

This  was  after  a  visit  which  Jeanie  made  one  day  to 
Agnes,  coming  upon  her  in  a  heated  altercation  with 
Parker.  "  I  only  wish  Polly  had  hurt  you  worse  than 
she  did,"  snapped  the  girl.  "  You  shall  not  tease  me. 
I  will  not  stand  it.  I  will  let  the  chickens  out  when  I 
want  to." 

"  But  they  play  havoc  in  the  garden  and  eat  up  the 
grain,  too." 


Il6  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  Plant  more,  then.     Father  does  when  I  tell  him." 

"You  are  unreasonable,  Agnes." 

"  Don't  call  me  Agnes.  I  am  Miss  Kennedy,  if  you 
please." 

"  Miss  Kennedy,  then.  You  are  unreasonable,  for  your 
fowls  can  be  fed  as  well  in  their  own  enclosure  as  to  be 
eating  up  the  food  we  shall  need  for  ourselves." 

"  As  if  they  could  eat  it  all  up." 

"  They  do  not  eat  it  all  up,  of  course,  and  you  know 
they  do  not  have  to  be  kept  up  all  the  year ;  they  are 
free  to  roam  where  they  will  after  the  things  have  grown 
more,  but  we  do  not  want  them  to  destroy  the  seeds  we 
have  planted  with  so  much  care." 

"  I  don't  care ;  you  shall  not  call  me  unreason- 
able." 

"Oh,  Agnes!"  Here  Jeanie's  voice  broke  in.  She 
had  ridden  over  with  David.  "  What  does  make  you  in 
such  a  temper  ?  " 

"This  creature."  Agnes  gave  a  magnificent  wave 
of  her  hand  to  Parker  Willett,  who  flashed  an  amused 
smile  at  Jeanie. 

"  Don't  mind  her,  Mr.  Willett,"  said  Jeanie,  as  he 
helped  her  down  from  her  horse.  "  She  is  a  naughty 
girl  at  times." 

"Her  father  says  she  is  a  good  little  girl,"  said 
Parker,  teasingly,  and  Agnes  bent  an  ominous  look 
upon  him. 

"  I'll  pay  you  up  for  that,"  she  said. 


THE   INTRUDER  117 

The  young  man  smiled  gravely.  To  his  twenty-five 
years  Agnes  seemed  still  a  little  child,  and  he  agreed 
with  her  father  that  the  girl  needed  her  mother.  "  Polly 
O'Neill,  good,  clever,  kind  hearted  though  she  might  be, 
was  no  guardian  for  a  young  lass,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  The  girl  has  been  well  brought  up,  but  she  will  forget 
all  her  gentle  ways  in  Polly's  company.  I  wish  it  could 
be  managed  to  alter  conditions  for  her.  I've  no  right 
to  interfere,  but  if  she  were  my  sister  — "  He  struck 
his  spade  sharply  into  the  earth,  and  then  stood  erect 
looking  after  Agnes  as  she  disappeared  into  the  cabin 
with  Jeanie.  At  the  other  end  of  the  truck  patch  he 
caught  sight  of  Fergus  Kennedy,  his  face  wearing  its 
usual  mild,  dazed  expression.  Parker  had  a  genuine 
affection  for  his  coworker,  and  he  watched  him  now 
with  a  look  of  pity  and  concern.  "  Dear  old  fellow,"  he 
murmured  under  his  breath,  "  for  your  sake  if  not  for  the 
girl's  own  I  will  do  my  best."  And  from  that  time  he 
took  a  greater  interest  in  Agnes,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
she  played  many  tricks  upon  him,  and  more  than  once 
angered  him  beyond  endurance.  Then  he  discussed  the 
situation  with  Polly. 

"That  little  girl  is  getting  to  be  as  wild  as  a  hawk," 
he  ventured  to  say.  "  Do  you  think  her  mother  would 
like  to  see  her  so  ?  " 

Polly  gave  her  head  a  toss.  "  Why  shouldn't  she  be 
wild  ?  It  suits  the  country.  She'll  not  be  like  to  wear 
silks  and  satins  and  be  mincing  about  on  high  heels. 


Il8  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

She'll  be  like  to  marry  a  settler  lad  —  Archie  M'Clean, 
no  doubt." 

"  But  Archie  is  not  so  rough ;  he  is  quite  serious  and 
gentle." 

"  All  the  more  he'll  like  the  bright  ways  of  the  lassie. 
She's  young  yet,  Mr.  Willett,  an'  young  things  must 
have  their  fling.  Leave  her  alone  for  a  while,  and  she'll 
sober  down  like  the  rest  of  us."  She  gave  a  little  chir- 
rup of  a  laugh  and  glanced  at  the  young  man,  who 
laughed  in  return. 

"You  have  sobered  down  so  entirely,  Polly,"  he  said. 

"  Ye  didn't  know  me  when  I  was  a  bit  of  a  lass,"  re- 
plied Polly,  with  a  sly  look. 

"  That  is  true  ;  you  must  have  been  —  "  He  shook 
his  head,  and  Polly  laughed  again. 

Society  upon  the  frontier  was  decidedly  mixed,  and  to 
Polly  one  was  as  good  as  another.  She  rather  admired 
the  handsome,  courtly  young  Virginian,  but  she  gave 
quite  as  much  favor  to  rough,  awkward  Jerry  Hunter, 
and,  indeed,  preferred  his  boisterous  laugh  and  clumsy 
jokes  to  the  more  quiet  conversation  of  •  Parker  Willett. 

As  for  Agnes,  she  accepted  the  fact  of  the  young 
man's  presence  with  cheerfulness,  except  when  her  ire 
was  raised  by  his  teasing,  and  then  she  plied  Polly  with 
requests  to  send  him  off,  but  an  hour  later  she  would 
calm  down  and  confess  that  it  was  a  good  arrangement 
all  around,  and  that  his  clear  head  and  busy  hands 
would  be  greatly  missed  if  he  should  leave  them.  As 


THE   INTRUDER  119 

time  went  on  that  ever  present  thought,  "When 
mother  comes,"  took  more  and  more  possession  of 
her,  and  colored  all  her  plans  for  the  future.  She  did 
not  talk  of  these  plans  to  Polly,  but  when  she  and  her 
father  were  alone,  she  would  let  her  thoughts  run  riot, 
and  at  these  times,  too,  it  seemed  that  Fergus  Kennedy 
was  more  like  his  old  self  than  outsiders  believed  he 
could  ever  be. 

With  Jeanie  Agnes  was  now  on  good  terms,  for 
Jeanie,  once  she  had  confessed  her  interest  in  David, 
made  Agnes  her  confidante,  and  though  David  was  shy 
and  Jeanie  coy,  the  affair  was  visibly  progressing,  and 
Agnes  thought  it  probable  that  in  a  year  or  so  there 
would  be  another  home  started  in  the  settlement. 

Archie  of  late  was  more  serious  than  ever,  and  one 
day  he  propounded  a  question  to  Agnes  which  rather 
puzzled  her.  "Would  ye  like  to  marry  a  man  who'd 
make  ye  a  home  back  there  in  the  east,  Agnes  ? "  he 
asked. 

"And  go  back  there  with  father?  I  don't  know, 
Archie.  But  there's  no  such  to  marry  me,  and  then 
there  will  be  mother  and  the  children." 

Archie  nodded.  "  It's  a  muckle  one  would  have  to  do 
with  such  a  family,"  he  said  half  to  himself  and  with  a 
sigh.  "  If  he  happened  to  be  a  puir  meenister,  it  would 
be  hard  making  out,  though  maybe  —  with  a  farm  — 

"  What  are  you  talking  about,  Archie  ?  "  Agnes  inter- 
rupted impatiently.  "  I  never  heard  such  maundering 


120  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

talk.  Who's  a  puir  meenister,  and  what  are  you  trying 
to  say  ? " 

Archie  roused  himself  from  his  revery.  "  Oh,  noth- 
ing, Agnes;  I  was  but  thinking." 

"You're  forever  and  the  day  thinking,  and  what 
comes  of  it  ?  " 

"Something  may,"  he  replied.  "Ye'd  sober  down 
then,"  he  said,  looking  at  her  speculatively. 

"  I  can't  think  what  you  mean.  I'll  sober  down  for 
no  one,  unless  it  be  my  mother,"  she  added  softly. 

"  Ah,  your  mother,  yes."  And  again  Archie  was 
plunged  in  thought  so  that  Agnes  flung  herself  off  and 
declared  to  Jeanie  that  Archie  was  going  daft. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
ARCHIE'S   PLAN 

AGNES  was  right  in  charging  Archie  with  doing  a 
deal  of  thinking,  for,  ever  since  the  meeting-house 
had  become  an  assured  fact,  his  yearning  for  the  min- 
istry had  increased,  and  he  thought  of  it  day  and  night. 
In  vain  did  he  tell  himself  that  his  father  needed  him ; 
in  vain  did  he  call  himself  unfit,  that  tugging  at  his 
heartstrings  would  not  cease,  and  at  last  the  lad  took  his 
trouble  to  the  minister  himself.  "  It  is  a  call,  lad,"  said 
the  good  man,  after  he  had  heard  Archie's  hesitating 
account  of  himself.  "  If  there's  a  way  open  to  you, 
take  it,  for  the  laborers  are  few." 

"There'd  be  a  way  open  if  my  grandfather  knew," 
said  Archie,  slowly.  "  He's  been  aye  ready  to  urge  me 
to  the  step  since  I  was  a  bit  of  a  lad,  and  he  would  help 
me." 

"Then  go  and  ask  your  father's  blessing  and  start 
forth,  and  may  the  Lord  of  Hosts  go  with  you." 

Archie  went  home  with  so  serious  a  face  that  his 
father  noticed  it  as  the  boy  came  into  the  workshop  and 
stood  before  him. 

121 


122  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

"What  fashes  ye,  lad?"  he  asked.  "Are  ye  in 
trouble  ? " 

"  No  trouble  now,  father.  I've  been  to  see  the 
meenister." 

"Ay,  and  what  then?" 

"  He  thinks  I  have  a  call.  I've  felt  it  this  long  while, 
and — father,  shall  I  go?" 

Joseph  M' Clean  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Archie 
was  the  apple  of  his  eye ;  to  part  from  the  lad  would  be 
such  pain  as  he  could  scarcely  bring  himself  to  face ; 
but  the  ministry  —  Like  Abraham  of  old,  if  the  Lord 
demanded  the  sacrifice,  he  was  ready  to  give  it,  so  on 
the  altar  of  his  affections  he  laid  his  first-born,  saying 
in  a  broken  voice,  "  The  Lord  be  with  you,  my  son ;  if 
it  is  his  will,  I  cannot  deny  ye  to  Him."  And  the  un- 
demonstrative Scot  drew  the  boy  close  and  folded  his 
arms  about  him.  "  I'll  not  deny  it's  hard  to  part  from 
ye,  Archie,  my  lad,"  he  said  in  a  shaking  voice. 

"  But  it'll  not  be  for  always,  father.  I  beeta  to  come 
back  here,  maybe." 

"Ay,  maybe." 

"  Grandfather  will  help  me." 

"  He  will,  and  be  proud  to  do  it.  He  was  ever  at  me 
to  encourage  ye  in  the  notion.  Ye'll  go  straight  to  him, 
Archie,  and  tell  him  I  sent  ye.  Now  go  tell  your 
mither." 

Between  her  pride  in  the  prospect  of  her  boy's  be- 
coming a  minister  and  her  sorrow  at  parting  with  him, 


ARCHIE'S   PLAN  123 

Mrs.  M'Clean  had  many  tears  to  shed,  but  she  said 
nothing  to  dissuade  him  from  his  purpose,  and  he  went 
forth  from  her  presence  comforted. 

It  was  of  Agnes  that  he  next  thought,  and  that  even- 
ing he  took  his  way  to  her  home.  It  was  late  when 
he  reached  there  for  the  winter  days  were  still  short. 
A  golden  light  gleamed  coldly  through  the  trees,  and 
shone  through  the  door  striking  Agnes's  auburn  hair 
with  a  glory  as  she  opened  to  the  lad's  knock.  "  Ah, 
come  in,"  she  said,  pleased  at  sight  of  him.  "  I'm  glad 
of  company,  for  Polly  is  doing  the  milking,  father  and 
Mr.  Willett  are  off  hunting,  and  the  bairns  and  I  are  all 
alone.  Draw  up  by  the  fire." 

Archie  followed  her  to  the  fireside  and  seated  himself 
on  the  settle.  He  looked  around  the  bare,  homely  little 
room,  at  the  children  playing  about  the  floor,  and  lastly 
at  Agnes  herself.  When  would  he  be  seeing  all  this 
again  ?  What  changes  would  take  place  before  he 
should  return  to  this  country,  raw  and  new  and  full  of 
dangers  and  makeshifts  ?  A  lump  arose  in  his  throat, 
and  he  turned  his  eyes  to  the  fire,  gazing  into  its  glow- 
ing centre  till  he  should  recover  his  speech. 

Agnes  felt  that  something  unusual  was  in  the  wind. 
She  watched  him  for  a  few  minutes  before  she  said, 
saucily,  "You've  lost  your  tongue,  Archie,  the  little 
you  have." 

He  started  and  faced  her,  blurting  out :  "  I'm  going 
away.  I'm  going  back  to  Carlisle." 


124  A  GENTLE   PIONEER] 

"  Back  to  Carlisle  ? "  Agnes  looked  at  him  wonder- 
ingly.  "  Oh,  Archie,  you  will  see  mother  and  the 
bairns.  I  wish  I  were  going  with  you." 

"  I  wish  in  my  heart  you  were,"  he  said  unsteadily. 
"  Will  you  come  there  to  me  after  a  while,  Agnes,  if  I 
don't  come  back  ?  I'm  going  to  be  a  meenister." 

"  A  meenister  !  "  Agnes  broke  into  a  laugh.  "  Then 
it  was  no  joke  when  we  called  you  the  dominie."  Then 
her  face  clouded.  "  I'll  be  missing  you,  Archie,"  she 
said  simply. 

"  Ah,  will  ye,  Agnes  ?  I'm  fain  glad  to  have  ye  say 
so.  Couldn't  ye  go  back  there  now  to  your  mother, 
you  and  your  father?  " 

" Oh,  no,  no;  we've  come  here  and  settled,  and  there 
will  be  enough  for  them  now.  Tell  them  so.  I  have 
written  them,  but  who  knows  if  they  have  the  letter, 
and  you  will  be  going  straight  there,  Archie.  Tell 
them  they  can  come  now,  they  must  come,  and  we'll 
manage  somehow.  There'll  need  to  be  more  room,  and 
oh,  Archie,  you'll  not  be  here  to  help  us  build."  The 
thought  of  this  made  the  girl's  eyes  moist,  and  she  said 
again,  "  I'll  be  missing  ye  sorely,  Archie." 

"  Then  if  ye'll  not  go  back  now,  I'll  come  for  you. 
There'll  be  other  meeting-houses  needed  as  the  country 
fills  up,  and  other  meenisters  for  them,  and  I'll  no  stay 
in  the  east."  Archie  spoke  eagerly. 

But  Agnes  had  recovered  herself ;  her  emotion  was 
not  so  very  deep.  "  Don't  be  too  sure.  One  can't 


ARCHIE'S   PLAN  12$ 

tell  what  a  year  may  bring  forth,"  she  remarked 
sagely. 

"  Will  ye  make  me  the  promise,  then  ? " 

"  The  promise  ? " 

"  To  wait  till  I  come  for  you." 

Agnes  shook  her  head.  "  I'll  make  no  promises,  lad. 
I'm  too  foolish  a  creature  for  a  meenister's  wife." 

"  But  ye're  so  young ;  ye'll  sober  down." 

"  I  don't  want  to." 

Archie's  face  fell,  but  he  persisted.  "  Ye'll  be  think- 
ing that  way  now,  but  after  a  bit  it'll  come  easy." 

"  The  promises  of  girls  and  boys  are  of  no  account," 
said  Agnes,  with  more  perspicuity  than  one  would  have 
credited  her  with.  "  Didn't  you  promise  a  year  ago 
that  when  you  were  twenty-one  you  would  build  a  home 
out  here  ?  " 

Archie  looked  troubled.    "  Ay,  but  circumstances  —  " 

"  Yes,  that's  just  it ;  circumstances,  and  who  knows 
what  circumstances  will  come  about  in  another  year? 
I'll  make  no  promises  till  I  see  my  mother  again,  that 
I  told  you  before,  and  I  keep  to  it." 

"Then,"  said  Archie,  with  a  little  smile,  "it  behooves 
me  to  send  your  mother  to  you." 

"Ah,  but;  and  if   you  do  that,  I  will  be  pleased." 

"  Then  I  will  try  to  please  ye.  Don't  you  think  I 
am  right,  Agnes  ?  " 

"  To  try  to  please  me  ?     Yes." 

"  I  meant  to  follow  the  meenistry." 


126  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

"  I  suppose  so.     Tell  me  all  about  it." 

At  this  invitation,  and  with  a  hope  for  her  dear  sym- 
pathy to  carry  away  as  a  memory,  Archie  poured  forth 
his  heart. 

Agnes  listened  soberly  enough,  but  as  he  came  to  an 
end  of  his  speech,  she  gave  a  little  giggle. 

Archie  frowned.     "What  is  so  funny?" 

"  You  in  blacks."  Then  seeing  he  took  it  to  heart, 
she  added:  "Ah,  but  now  Archie  dear,  you  see  how 
trifling  I  am.  You'll  find  some  good  serious  girl  at 
home  there  in  Carlisle,  and  you'd  better  turn  to  her. 
I  commend  you  to  Ailsie  Bell;  she'd  be  that  proud 
to  be  a  meenister's  wife." 

Archie  got  up  and  strode  across  the  floor  with  some- 
thing like  temper.  "  I  want  no  Ailsie  Bell.  You've 
no  heart  at  all,  Agnes,  and  I  am  'going  away  so  soon 
—  next  week  it  will  be." 

"So  soon  as  that  ?  "  Agnes  was  serious  now.  "  Maybe 
I'll  not  be  seeing  you  again." 

"  Maybe  not." 

"Ah,  I'm  sorry,  I  am,  Archie,  and  I'd  promise  if  I 
could,  but  I'm  not  staid  and  good  enough  for  a  meenis- 
ter,  and  —  " 

"  You're  good  enough  for  me." 

"  But  I'd  not  be  for  the  congregation,  and  I'd  be 
scared  of  them,  so  — 

"  I'll  not  give  you  up,"  said  Archie,  firmly.  "  I'll  come 
back  when  I'm  in  orders,  and  you'll  be  older  then,  and 


ARCHIE'S  PLAN  1 27 

it  will  seem  a  holy,  noble  life  to  you  to  help  the  sinful 
and  suffering." 

Agnes  looked  overpowered  by  this  burst  of  enthu- 
siasm, and  held  down  her  head,  looking  very  meek,  but 
she  saw  it  was  not  worth  while  to  try  to  argue  the  ques- 
tion. She  was  sorry  to  lose  Archie,  and  she  raised  her 
blue  eyes  to  him  wistfully  as  she  said :  "  You'll  bear  a 
letter  to  my  mother,  won't  you,  Archie  ?  I'll  write  it 
and  bring  it  to  you,  so  I'll  see  you  again." 

Archie  promised  and  then  Polly  came  in,  and  though 
she  laughed  and  joked  about  Archie's  plan,  she  was 
more  impressed  by  it  than  Agnes  was.  He  had  sud- 
denly acquired  a  new  dignity  in  Polly's  eyes,  and  she 
treated  him  with  a  deference  born  of  the  thought  that  he 
might  one  day  come  back  and  bring  her  to  task  in  the  mat- 
ter of  her  children's  knowledge  of  the  Shorter  Catechism, 
a  matter  which  Polly  was  likely  to  pass  over  slightingly. 

Agnes  wrote  her  letter,  pouring  out  her  full  heart  to 
her  mother,  and  telling  her  that  she  must  delay  her 
coming  no  longer.  With  the  letter  safely  hidden  in  her 
jacket  she  took  her  way  over  to  the  M 'Cleans',  where 
every  one  was  full  of  preparations  for  Archie's  depar- 
ture, and  where  he  was  so  in  demand  by  this  and  that 
one  that  Agnes  had  not  a  chance  to  make  her  good- 
bys  till  she  started  for  home,  when  Archie  declared  his 
intention  of  walking  part  way  with  her. 

They  were  both  rather  silent  till  it  came  to  the 
moment  of  parting.  Along  the  path  through  the  quiet 


128  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

woods  they  had  spoken  of  commonplace  things,  of  the 
weather,  of  the  news  of  the  neighborhood,  but  at  the 
parting  of  their  paths,  Archie  stopped  suddenly,  and 
caught  Agnes's  hands  in  his.  "  Ye  like  no  other  lad  so 
well  as  me,  Agnes ;  tell  me  that  for  my  comfort." 

"  I  like  no  other  lad  half  so  well,"  said  Agnes,  stead- 
ily, "and  I  shall,  oh,  I  believe  I  shall  greet  for  you, 
Archie,  when  I  come  home  from  meeting  next  Sabbath." 
The  tears  were  in  her  eyes  as  she  spoke. 

"  It  will  be  very  different  when  I  come  back,"  said 
Archie,  "  and  maybe  there'll  be  no  Agnes  Kennedy  to 
greet  for  me  then,"  he  added,  unsteadily. 

"  No  Agnes  Kennedy  ?  Do  you  think  I  am  going 
to  die  young  ?  "  Agnes's  voice  was  awe-stricken. 

"  No,  but  I  may  hear  that  you  have  changed  your 
name." 

"  Oh,  is  that  all  ?     You  scared  me,  Archie." 

"And  though  ye  care  naught  for  any  other  lad,  you'll 
no  be  giving  me  that  promise  to  wait  for  me  ?  If  ye 
would  but  do  that,  Agnes,  I  would  go  away  a  happier  lad." 

"  I  cannot  make  that  promise."  He  was  still  holding 
her  hands,  but  now  she  drew  them  away.  "  Suppose 
you  should  forget  me,  Archie,  and  should  like  another 
girl  better  than  me,  I  would  be  sitting  here  sorrowing 
for  you  and*  you  would  never  come,  or  suppose  I  should 
see  some  one  I  liked  better,  then  it  would  be  a  grief  to 
us  both,  for  I  should  hold  to  my  promise  and  I  should 
be  false  in  doing  it." 


ARCHIE'S   PLAN  1 29 

Archie  looked  at  her  wonderingly.  "  How  wise  a 
lass  is,"  he  sighed,  "  so  much  wiser  than  lads  are  about 
such  things.  Then  will  you  make  this  promise  ?  If 
neither  you  nor  I  shall  see  another  that  shall  be  liked 
better,  we  will  wed  each  other  when  I  come  back  to 
you  ? " 

Agnes  considered  this  for  some  time  before  she 
answered,  "  Yes,  I  think  that  is  not  too  much  to  prom- 
ise, for  we  are  then  both  free  to  do  as  we  choose,  and 
if  it  makes  you  any  happier  for  me  to  say  it,  Archie,  I 
will  say  it." 

Archie's  face  brightened.  "  My  dear  lassie,  you  do 
not  know  what  dreams  I  shall  have  of  this  last 
evening." 

Agnes  shook  her  head.  "  You  will  always  be  dream- 
ing, Archie,  of  one  thing  or  another." 

He  smiled  and  took  her  hands  in  his  again.  "  Will 
you  take  the  half  of  a  broken  sixpence,  Agnes,  as  a 
token  ? " 

"  It  is  what  they  do  in  story-books,  isn't  it  ? " 

"  Yes,  and  it  is  a  sign  between  lovers." 

"  And  are  we  lovers  ?  "  Agnes  asked  the  question 
most  innocently,  and  Archie  gave  a  little  sigh. 

"  We  will  be  lovers  when  I  see  you  again,"  he  replied. 
"  And  will  you  write  to  me  sometimes,  Agnes,  and  will 
you  keep  the  half  sixpence  ?  I  have  it  here."  He  pro- 
duced the  bits  of  broken  coin  from  his  leathern  pouch 
and  gave  her  one  of  the  pieces. 
K 


130  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  I  will  keep  it." 

"  And  you  will  not  forget  your  promise  ?  Say  it 
again,  Agnes." 

"What  shall  I  say?" 

"  If  I  see  no  one  I  like  better  than  you,  Archie 
M'Clean,  before  you  come  to  claim  me,  I  will  be  your 
wife." 

Agnes  hesitated.     "  It  sounds  so  solemn." 

"  But  you  promised." 

"So  I  did.  I  will  say  it."  And  she  repeated  the 
words  with  due  seriousness. 

"  And  when  I  see  you  again,  Agnes  Kennedy,  I  will 
claim  you  for  my  wife,  and  I  will  promise  to  be  a  true 
and  loving  husband." 

"  Oh,  but  you  didn't  say  anything  about  the  other 
girl  that  you  may  like  better !  "  Agnes  exclaimed. 

"  There  will  be  no  other,"  returned  Archie. 

"  All  the  same  you  must  say  it  just  as  I  did,  or  I 
shall  not  be  satisfied."  And  Archie  was  compelled  to 
make  the  concession. 

"  You  wouldn't  —  you  wouldn't  kiss  me  good-by,  I 
suppose,"  said  Archie,  awkwardly. 

Agnes  shook  her  head. 

"  But  I  may  kiss  your  cheek  ? " 

For  answer  she  turned  her  soft  rosy  cheek  toward 
him  and  he  touched  it  lightly  with  his  lips.  The  color 
flew  to  the  girl's  very  forehead,  and  she  turned  away 
quickly,  saying,  "  Good-by  for  the  last  time,  Archie ;  I 


ARCHIE'S   PLAN  131 

must  hurry  on."  She  did  not  look  back,  but  Archie 
stood  gazing  after  her  till  she  was  out  of  sight. 

Just  before  she  reached  the  edge  of  the  woods  she 
met  Parker  Willett,  who,  with  gun  on  shoulder,  was 
coming  along  the  river  path. 

He  carried  a  bunch  of  partridges  in  his  hand.  Seeing 
the  girl,  he  stopped  and  waited  for  her. 

"  It's  getting  late,"  Agnes  greeted  him  by  saying. 
"  I've  been  over  to  the  M'Cleans'.  Archie  is  going 
to-morrow,  and  he  will  see  my  mother.  Think  of  it, 
Mr.  Willett.  Ah  me,  if  I  could  but  go  to  her  instead  of 
the  letter  I  sent." 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  her  to  come  to  you  ?  " 

Agnes  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  before  she  asked, 
"  Would  you  have  done  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  so.     Yes,  I  am  sure  I  would." 

"That's  what  I  did,  then ;  but  don't  tell  Polly." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Oh,  because.  You  see  Polly  has  made  a  home  for 
us,  and  one  cannot  tell  whether  her  husband  will  ever 
come  back.  Do  you  think  he  will  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  not." 

"That's  what  all  think  but  Polly,  and  you  see  the 
house  is  small,  and  there's  not  room  for  all  us  if  mother 
and  the  children  come." 

"  We  can  easily  add  more  rooms  or  build  another 
cabin  if  that  is  all." 

"  Yes,  but  will  there  be  enough  for  everybody  ? " 


132  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  No  doubt  we  can  manage.  Have  you  any 
brothers  ? " 

"  Yes,  and  Sandy  is  a  big  boy  now ;  he  can  help." 

"And  your  mother  would  give  a  hand,  too,  I  know, 
from  what  you  have  told  us  of  her.  We  want  in  this 
country  willing,  skilful,  helpful  workers  more  than  any- 
thing else.  It  is  easy  to  get  food  if  there  are  those  to 
help  us  raise  and  prepare  it.  So  you'll  not  starve, 
Nancy,  when  your  mother  comes." 

"You  are  very  good  to  tell  me  that."  She  looked  up 
at  him  with  a  beaming  face.  "  I  think,  after  all,"  she 
added  after  a  pause,  "that  it  was  a  providence  that 
sent  you  to  us.  It  would  be  nice,"  she  added  after  a 
moment's  reflection,  "  if  you  would  marry  Polly,  and 
then  she  would  be  provided  for." 

Her  companion  laughed.  "But  suppose,  after  all,  her 
husband  should  return." 

.  "  That  would  make  a  mess  of  it."  She  looked  him 
over  thoughtfully.  "  Do  you  know,"  she  said  suddenly, 
"  now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  wonder  why  you  don't  get 
married  and  have  your  own  home." 

He  smiled  indulgently.  "  Because  I  like  to  stay 
with  Polly  and  you,"  he  answered  lightly. 

"  Is  that  it  ?  No,  I  don't  believe  it  is  exactly,"  she 
said  thoughtfully.  "  I  believe  at  first  you  thought  you 
had  done  us  a  wrong  by  trying  to  take  our  clearing 
from  us,  and  you  wanted  to  make  up  for  it,  and  now 
you —  you  feel  sorry  for  us  and  you  are  staying  because 


ARCHIE'S   PLAN  133 

you  know  we  need  you.  We  do  need  you."  She 
nodded  her  head  decidedly.  "  Everything  has  gone  so 
well  since  you  took  hold,  and  soon  we'll  be  having  as 
good  a  clearing  as  the  M 'Cleans'." 

The  young  man  made  no  answer.  She  had  followed 
his  own  thought,  and  he  wondered  that  so  thoughtless  a 
little  creature  as  she  had  always  appeared  to  be  should 
have  so  good  an  insight  into  his  motives.  "Agnes, 
how  old  are  you  ? "  he  asked  after  a  silence  in  which 
they  kept  the  path  together. 

"  I  am  sixteen.     I  shall  be  seventeen  next  spring." 

"And  I  am  twenty-five." 

"That  is  quite  old,"  returned  Agnes,  dubiously.  "I 
shall  have  been  many  years  married  when  I  am  that 
old,  I  suppose." 

"  Girls  do  marry  young  hereabouts,  I  have  noticed. 
It  is  the  need  of  homes,  and  the  fact  that  it  is  not  good 
for  man  to  be  alone.  You'll  make  a  fine  woman,  I'm 
thinking." 

Agnes  blushed  at  the  unwonted  praise.  She  had 
more  than  once  been  conscious  that  she  was  looked 
upon  with  critical  eyes  by  this  young  man,  and  that  it 
was  often  to  her  disadvantage  that  she  appeared  to 
him.  If  he  thought  she  would  make  a  fine  woman, 
then  maybe —  She  had  just  parted  from  Archie,  and 
out  of  the  fullness  of  her  heart  she  spoke,  "  Do  you 
think  I'd  ever  make  a  proper  wife  for  a  minister  ? " 

Her  companion  turned  and   looked  at   her   sharply. 


134  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

The  anxious  little  face  in  the  evening's  glow  looked 
wonderfully  sweet  and  innocent.  He  read  her  thought. 
"  No,"  he  answered  shortly.  Then  he  quickened  his 
pace  and  strode  on  ahead  of  her,  leaving  her  feeling 
half  indignant,  half  overcome  with  humility. 

They  found  Jerry  Hunter  established  by  the  fireside, 
and  Polly  charring  him  and  joining  in  his  big  laugh. 
Somehow,  the  boisterousness  jarred  on  Agnes.  She 
wished  that  she  might  be  alone,  or  that  it  was  .  her 
mother — her  mother — who  would  be  there  to  give  her  a 
gentle  greeting,  and  who  would  listen  so  patiently  and 
sympathetically  to  all  her  doubts  and  perplexities. 
Then  her  conscience  smote  her;  for  whatever  her 
faults,  who  was  kinder  than  Polly?  Who  more  leni- 
ent, more  ready  to  cheer  and  comfort  ?  Even  now  as 
the  girl  entered,  Polly's  eyes  sought  her,  and  the  loud 
laugh  upon  her  lips  died  away. 

"Come,  lass,"  she  said,  "Jerry  has  fetched  us  a  fine 
haunch  of  venison.  Go  you  out  and  bring  in  some  of 
that  fox-grape  jelly  we  made,  and  we'll  be  having  a 
feast  to-night.  The  child's  sad  at  parting  from  Archie," 
she  said  to  the  others  as  Agnes  went  out ;  "  we  must  try 
to  cheer  her  up  a  bit."  And  indeed,  Agnes  did  seem 
depressed  and  silent  more  than  was  her  wont. 

And  so  it  was  that  Archie  M'Clean  went  back  to 
Carlisle,  and  Agnes  missed  him  more  than  she  liked 
to  confess.  The  youths  of  the  settlement  had  taken 
it  as  a  matter  of  course  that  Agnes  would  be  escorted 


ARCHIE'S   PLAN  135 

everywhere  by  Archie,  and  in  consequence  they  had 
sought  other  partners,  so  she  felt  herself  suddenly 
bereft  of  those  pleasant  attentions  which  every  girl 
likes.  She  prepared  rather  soberly  for  the  church 
the  next  Sabbath,  and  was  surprised  upon  coming 
out  to  join  Polly  and  her  father  to  find  Parker  Willett 
waiting  for  her.  "Will  you  ride  to  church  with  me?" 
he  asked  with  a  magnificent  bow. 

Agnes  swept  him  quite  as  elegant  a  courtesy.  "  An' 
it  please  you,  kind  sir,  I  will  accompany  you,"  she 
replied.  And  then  they  both  laughed. 

"  I  thought  perhaps  you'd  miss  your  swain,  the  knight 
of  the  rueful  countenance,  and  it  will  seem  like  old 
times  to  me  when  I  used  to  take  my  little  sister  to 
church,"  he  said,  as  he  lifted  her  up. 

"  Oh,  have  you  a  little  sister  ?  " 

"  Yes,  or  rather  she  is  quite  a  big  sister  now." 

"Tell  me  about  her." 

He  took  his  place  with  an  easy  grace,  and  as  they 
started  off  he  said,  "She's  back  there  in  Virginia, 
married  these  two  or  three  years." 

"Was  that  why  you  left  home — because  she  married?" 

"  Partly  that.  We  were  great  comrades  before  that, 
although  it  wasn't  altogether  pleasant  after  we  had  a 
stepfather  who  made  ducks  and  drakes  of  the  property 
our  own  father  left,  and  as  my  sister  had  what  was  left 
of  her  patrimony  when  she  was  married,  I  took  what 
was  mine  and  came  away  to  seek  a  better  fortune  than 


136  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

seemed  to  await  me  at  home.  It  is  not  a  very  romantic 
story,  you  see." 

"  I  know  something  about  step  relatives,"  said  Agnes. 
"  My  father  has  some  stepbrothers,  and  that  is  why  he 
had  to  leave  home.  My  grandfather  Kennedy  didn't 
make  a  will,  and  his  sons  all  came  in  for  a  share  of  the 
property ;  and  they  had  had  such  a  lot  given  to  them,  too, 
so  it  wasn't  fair.  Grandfather  always  meant  that  father 
should  have  the  home  farm,  and  they  knew  it,  but  they 
just  grabbed  all  they  could  get,  and  that,  too,  after 
father  had  lived  there  all  his  life  and  had  helped  to 
make  the  farm  what  it  was." 

"That  was  pretty  mean.  Your  grandfathers  don't 
seem  to  be  given  to  making  wills." 

"  I  shall  always  believe  that  Grandfather  Muirhead 
made  his.  I  wish  I  knew  more  about  how  Humphrey 
Muirhead  came  to  have  that  place." 

"  How  much  do  you  know  about  it  ? " 

"  Not  very  much.  Grandfather  lived  there,  and 
cleared  the  land,  so  it  is  a  good  farm.  One  time 
while  grandfather  was  on  a  journey  farther  off,  he 
with  his  companions  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Indians, 
and  we  always  supposed  he  was  killed.  It  was  several 
years  ago,  and  none  of  the  party  ever  came  back.  Do 
you  suppose  Humphrey  Muirhead  could  have  found  a 
will  and  that  he  destroyed  it  ? " 

"It  is  difficult  to  say.  I  should  judge  that  he  was 
not  a  man  of  very  much  principle,  and  it  is  quite  possi- 


ARCHIE'S   PLAN  137 

ble  that  he  would  do  a  thing  like  that.     Do  you  remem- 
ber your  grandfather  Muirhead  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  He  came  to  see  us  several  times.  He 
was  a  great  one  to  travel  about,  and  thought  nothing  of 
making  the  journey  over  the  mountains.  He  told 
mother  about  this  place  the  last  time  he  came,  and 
gave  her  the  deeds  to  keep  for  him,  and  he  told  her 
the  place  was  to  be  hers,  but  that's  all  the  good  it  did." 
"Well,  I  wouldn't  grieve  over  it.  In  time  you  will 
have  as  good  a  place  as  that." 

"  It  will  take  years,  for  grandfather  had  spent  so 
much  time  and  strength  on  his  clearing ;  it  enrages  me 
when  I  think  of  it." 

"You  mustn't  be  enraged  on  your  way  to  church," 
said  Parker,  half  teasingly ;  but  Agnes  answered  gravely, 
"That  is  quite  true." 

"We  will  talk  of  something  else,"  Parker  went  on. 
"  Polly  assured  me  last  night  that  her  husband  would 
soon  be  back." 

"Why,  what  reason  has  she  to  think  so  ?  " 
"  I  don't  know.     She  has  had  some  sort  of  dream  or 
vision  or  something,  a  sign  she  says,  and  she  puts  great 
faith  in  it.     Polly's  signs  are  something  that  I  cannot 
keep  track  of." 

"  But  there  are  signs,"  returned  Agnes,  gravely. 
"  Oh,  are  there  ? " 

"  Of  course.  The  Indians  have  a  great  many,  and 
all  people  do." 


138  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  I  suppose  they  do,  come  to  think  of  it ;  but  I  wasn't 
thinking  of  natural  consequences,  I  was  thinking  of  the 
supernatural." 

"  Oh,  you  mean  uncanny  things  like  ghosts  and  noises 
from  nowhere,  and  visions.  We  Scots  believe  in  visions 
and  second  sight  and  all  that." 

"  Yes,  I  know  you  do.  But  are  you  still  Scots  ? 
Why  not  Americans  ?  " 

"  Of  course  Americans,  but  the  Scotch  still  clings  to  us." 

"  Like  a  'burr,  or  like  a  true  Scotch  thistle.  I  have 
noticed  that,  and  that  some  of  you  keep  the  Scotch 
pronunciation  much  more  than  others,  yet  every  one 
of  you  say  meenister." 

Agnes  laughed  at  his  pronunciation  of  the  word. 
"  And  any  one  would  know  you  for  a  Virginian,  and 
you  are  proud  of  it;  so  are  we  proud  of  our  Scotch- 
Irish.  Polly  is  more  Irish  than  Scotch,  and  that  shows 
plainly,  too." 

"  It  surely  does."  And  they  both  laughed  at  the 
memory  of  some  of  Polly's  expressions. 

And  when  she  looked  back  upon  it  Agnes  found 
that  riding  to  church  with  Parker  Willett  was  not  quite 
so  serious  an  affair  as  Archie  made  it.  She  turned  the 
matter  over  in  her  mind  as  she  sat  very  still  in  church, 
but  she  gave  a  little  sigh  as  she  tried  to  fix  her  atten- 
tion upon  the  long  sermon.  How  was  it  faring  with 
Archie  that  day  ?  Was  he  thinking  of  her  as  he  made 
his  journey  over  the  mountains  ? 


CHAPTER   IX 
WHAT  THE  FRESHET  BROUGHT 

IT  was  quite  early  in  the  spring  before  the  willows 
that  bordered  the  run  at  the  foot  of  the  garden 
had  put  on  their  first  green,  and  long  before  the  paw- 
paw bushes  showed  their  tender  shoots  or  their 
leathery-looking  blossoms.  Agnes  was  busy  pounding 
at  the  hominy  block.  She  was  well  wrapped  up,  for 
though  a  recent  thaw  had  broken  up  the  ice  in  the 
rivers,  and  had  started  the  frost  from  out  of  the  ground 
so  that  the  red  mud  was  thick  everywhere,  it  was  still 
cool  out  of  doors.  As  the  girl  worked  away,  giving 
swift,  deft,  even  strokes,  she  saw  Parker  Willett  coming 
toward  her.  "  The  river  is  rising,"  he  said. 

Agnes  paused,  and  looked  toward  the  run.  The 
yellow  mass  of  water  in  the  river  beyond  was  pitching 
and  tossing,  a  turbulent  tide.  "  I  thought  it  had  come 
to  a  standstill,"  she  said,  "  but  I  see  it  is  rising  fast." 

"  Yes,  very  fast.  I  have  been  measuring,  and  it  has 
risen  a  foot  since  I  last  looked.  I  hope  it  will  not  be 
such  a  big  freshet  as  to  wash  us  out." 

"  It  couldn't  do  that,  could  it  ?  I  shouldn't  suppose 
it  could  ever  reach  this  far." 

139 


140  A   GENTLE  PIONEER 

"  No,  but  it  might  do  damage  to  the  garden." 

"I  hope  it  won't;  we  have  such  a  good  start." 
Agnes  looked  out  anxiously  between  the  fringes  of 
willows. 

"We  won't  borrow  trouble,  anyhow,"  said  Parker, 
cheerfully. 

"  Best  not.  Mother  used  to  say  that  sometimes 
trouble  is  a  blessing  in  disguise,  and  even  if  the  freshet 
does  harm  in  one  direction,  it  may  do  good  in  another." 

"  That  is  certainly  a  cheerful  view  to  take  of  it,"  said 
Parker,  laughing.  And  he  passed  on. 

"Two  years  since  I  have  seen  my  mother,"  thought 
Agnes,  "and  I  am  seventeen.  Oh,  when  will  she 
come  ?  I  wonder  if  the  freshet  will  be  a  help  or  a 
hindrance  to  her  coming.  Ah,  it  is  getting  worse !  I 
see  the  flood  is  bringing  down  all  sorts  of  things.  I 
must  go  down  nearer  when  I  have  finished  this." 

Higher  and  higher  rose  the  flood,  all  day  and  all 
night,  and  by  the  next  morning  river  and  run  were  one 
sheet  of  tossing,  plunging  water.  The  house  stood  in  a 
little  hollow,  but  beyond  it  rose  a  hill  which  descended 
precipitously  on  the  other  side  to  the  river.  Around 
the  foot  of  the  hill  wound  the  run  whose  farther  bank 
rose  again  to  the  edge  of  the  river;  the  bank,  not  so 
high  as  the  opposite  one,  was  now  covered.  It  was 
sure  to  be  safe  on  the  higher  hill.  The  house  was  a 
little  above  the  level  of  the  water,  but  the  garden  on 
the  hillside  was  encroached  upon. 


WHAT   THE   FRESHET   BROUGHT  141 

"  It  is  getting  pretty  close,"  said  Parker,  as  Agnes 
joined  him ;  "just  a  little  more  and  I  am  afraid  we  shall 
have  to  move  out." 

"  Maybe  it  will  stop  before  that  happens,"  said 
Agnes,  in  reply.  "What  a  lot  of  things  are  coming 
down  !  "  She  turned  to  Polly  who  had  come  out  to  see. 
"  Oh,  Polly,  see,  there  is  a  shed  and  a  lot  of  furniture, 
and  oh,  see,  there  is  a  queer-looking  raft !  There  is  a 
man  on  it.  If  he  should  get  into  that  snarl  of  trees 
there,  it  would  be  bad  for  him.  It  is  such  a  little  raft. 
See,  he  is  trying  to  steer  out  of  the  way  of  those  snags ! 
No,  he  isn't !  Oh,  Polly,  what  is  he  trying  to  do  ? " 

"  Trying  to  make  a  fool  of  himsel',  as  near  as  I  can 
make  out.  Why  doesn't  he  try  to  pole  himself  out  of 
the  way  of  those  stumps?  He's  in  danger,  and  if  he 
gets  into  the  middle  of  the  current,  he's  gone." 

"  There's  something  on  the  stump,  and  he's  trying  to 
get  it !  "  cried  Agnes.  "  What  can  it  be  ?  O  dear, 
dear  !  and  we  must  stand  here  without  being  able  to  help 
him."  She  looked  around  for  Parker,  but  he  was  gone. 

The  snarl  of  stumps  was  drifting  toward  the  current, 
and  they  could  see  that  the  man  on  the  frail  little  raft 
was  trying  his  best  to  keep  raft  and  stumps  from  mid- 
stream. "  If  he  only  knew  how  near  he  was  to  the  top 
of  the  river  bank  on  the  other  side  of  the  run,  he  might 
make  it.  It's  fair  wonderful  how  he  manages  ;  one  'ud 
think  nobody  could  live  in  such  a  rage  of  waters  !  "  Polly 
exclaimed. 


142  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  Look  there  !  "  suddenly  cried  Agnes. 

"  For  the  land's  sake  !  "  Polly  ejaculated.  "  If  there 
isn't  Park  Willett  in  a  boat!  If  he  isn't  foolhardy,  I 
wouldn't  say  it.  Now  what  is  he  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  see,"  returned  Agnes ;  "  he  is  going  to  try  to  get 
across  the  run  and  reach  the  other  bank.  O  dear! 
he'll  stick  in  the  tree-tops  and  that  will  be  the  end  of 
him.  Oh,  I  don't  want  to  look !  I  can't  look !  I  won- 
der where  father  is ;  I  hope  he  is  safe." 

"  He's  nowhere  about  here ;  he's  gone  to  the  other 
clearing,"  Polly  told  her. 

"  And  we  must  stand  here  and  see  them  drown ! " 
Agnes  began  to  wring  her  hands. 

"  We  needn't.  You  can  go  in,"  returned  Polly,  sar- 
castically. "  I'm  willing  to  bet  my  Sunday  dinner  that 
Park  '11  make  it.  There  he  goes!" 

"  No,  he's  caught !  Ah,  he  is  clear  of  that.  Now  ! 
Oh  !  will  he  make  it  ?  See,  how  carefully  he  sounds 
as  he  goes  !  Now  what  is  he  doing  ?  I  see,  he  is  mak- 
ing his  boat  fast  to  the  top  of  that  tree  so  it  can't  get 
away.  Now  —  why,  Polly,  he's  throwing  a  line!  Good 
lad  !  See,  the  man  has  caught  it !  I  was  afraid  it  would 
get  tangled  in  the  stump.  What  do  you  see  ? "  For 
Polly  had  made  a  sudden  exclamation. 

"  I'm  no  so  sure,  but  I  thought  I  saw  the  man  there 
take  something  from  that  snarl  of  stumps.  Could  it 
be  some  wee  bit  animal  ? " 

"  Could  it  be  a  little  child  ?     Oh,  Polly,  could  it  ?  " 


WHAT   THE   FRESHET   BROUGHT  143 

The  two  were  now  so  excited  that  they  could  scarcely 
wait  events,  but  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  watch, 
and  finally  they  rejoiced  to  see  the  raft  slowly  turned 
toward  the  boat  in  which  Parker  steadied  himself,  hold- 
ing on  to  the  branch  of  a  tree  which  protruded  from  the 
water.  It  was  a  risky  business,  for  all  around  surged 
the  swift  waters,  flinging  broken  branches  of  trees,  loose 
boards,  and  stumps  in  their  way.  But  once  out  of  the 
swift  current  they  could  hope  to  land  safely.  Crossing 
the  run  was  no  easy  matter,  for  the  tops  of  the  trees 
along  its  submerged  bank  were  continually  menacing 
them,  and  at  every  moment  it  seemed  likely  that  they0 
would  be  upset.  Breathlessly  the  two  women  watched, 
and  finally,  by  the  combined  skill  of  the  two  men,  the 
boat  was  safely  piloted  across  to  dry  land.  Then  the 
two  clasped  each  other's  hands  in  sign  of  relief  to  their 
overstrained  feelings. 

"It  is  a  child  they  are  carrying,"  said  Polly,  "and 
the  man's  head  is  as  bald  as  my  hand ;  not  a  hair  on  it. 
Come,  let's  hurry  in,  Nancy,  and  have  some  hot  water 
ready,  for  the  child  must  be  perished."  Agnes  followed 
her  into  the  house,  and  was  bustling  about  making  ready 
some  warm  food  when  she  heard  an  exclamation  of  joy 
and  amazement. 

Then  the  door  flew  open,  and  she  turned  to  see  Polly 
fling  herself  into  the  arms  of  the  bald-headed  man,  cry- 
ing :  "  It's  me  own  Jimmy,  and  him  with  not  a  spear  on 
his  head,  and  nearly  drownded  before  me  eyes !  Ah, 


144  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

Jimmy,  Jimmy,  me  true  lad !  Ah,  I  knew  ye'd  never 
lave  me  foriver.  I've  mourned  for  ye,  lad !  Ah, 
Jimmy,  Jimmy !  "  and  she  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears. 
And  Jimmy,  with  one  arm  around  Polly,  half  ready  to 
cry  himself,  was  rubbing  his  bald  head  and  looking 
around  in  a  maze. 

"  Take  this  little  fellow,"  said  Parker  to  Agnes ;  "  he's 
half  dead  with  cold  and  fright,  poor  little  chap.  Let 
those  two  have  it  out,  and  we'll  look  after  the  boy." 

Agnes  took  the  little  fellow  in  her  arms;  he  was  a 
pretty,  chubby  child,  between  two  and  three  years  of 
age ;  he  had  been  crying  forlornly,  but  at  the  sight  of 
a  bowl  of  warm  mush  and  milk  his  tears  ceased. 

Polly  had  gathered  her  own  brood  about  her,  and 
they  were  shrilly  calling,  "  Daddy,  daddy!  "  while  Polly 
herself  had  not  taken  her  eyes  off  Jimmy's  face.  "  It's 
me  own  lad,  me  own  lad,"  she  crooned,  rocking  herself 
back  and  forth.  "  An'  where's  yer  hair,  Jimmy  dear  ? 
An'  you  with  such  a  fine  crop.  An*  how  did  ye  git 
here,  an'  are  ye  hungry  ? " 

"  Hungry  I  am,"  was  the  response,  "  as  anybody'd  be 
who'd  not  tasted  bite  nor  sup  since  yesterday.  I'd  a 
little  parched  corn,  but  it  gave  out  yesterday.  Faith ! 
I  was  not  travellin'  heavy  handed,  an'  Polly,  lass,  lest 
I'd  be  burdened  with  too  much  to  carry,  I  left  me 
hair  behind  me."  He  gave  a  chuckle  and  took  the 
bowl  which  Agnes  handed  him,  eating  as  a  famished 
man  would. 


WHAT  THE   FRESHET   BROUGHT  145 

"  An'  did  ye  know  ye  was  coming  this  way,  an'  that 
ye'd  find  me  an'  the  bairns  ? " 

"  Not  a  lick  did  I  know  where  I'd  be  fetchin'  up.  I 
took  the  coorse  av  the  river  an'  reckoned  upon  its 
bringing  me  out  somewhere  among  daycint  folks.  It's 
the  freshet  ye've  to  thank,  Polly,  for  the  sight  av  me. 
I'd  not  got  away  but  for  it.  The  watter  riz  so  high  the 
redskins  concluded  to  move  their  camp,  and  in  the  kin- 
fusion  I  slipped  away,  an'  bein'  a  good  swimmer,  trusted 
mesel'  to  the  watter  for  a  bit,  and  then  I  got  ashore 
and  made  me  bit  av  raft  an'  consigned  mesel'  to  the 
river.  I  caught  sight  av  the  bairn  there,  as  I  passed 
the  snags,  and  thinks  I,  Jimmy  O'Neill,  ye've  niver  yit 
been  onwillin'  to  risk  yer  life  fur  a  weak  little  creetur, 
an'  suppose  it  was  one  o*  yer  own  bairnies ;  so  says  I, 
*  I'll  save  it  or  lose  me  own  skin.'  He  was  settin'  there, 
the  purtiest  ye  ever  see,  in  the  top  av  the  stump,  as 
snug  as  if  it  had  been  a  cradle,  the  watter  swirlin' 
around  him  an'  tossin'  him  about.  But  he  was  well 
balanced,  somehow,  an'  niver  a  fut  did  he  wet." 

Agnes  picked  up  the  baby  from  where  she  had  set 
him  in  the  midst  of  Polly's  children.  "What's  your 
name,  baby  ? "  she  asked. 

"  Honey,"  he  replied.  "  I'se  Honey,  an'  dad  put  me 
in  a  big  tree  an'  it  sailded."  And  that  was  all  they  could 
.get  out  of  him,  so  Honey  he  remained. 

"  How  his  poor  mother  will  mourn  for  him,"  said  Polly, 
hugging  her  own  youngest  close  to  her.  "  I  wish  we 


146  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

could  find  out  where  he  came  from.  I  don't  believe  it 
can  be  very  far  away,  or  he'd  be  in  a  worse  plight." 

"  If  it  isn't  far,  maybe  we  can  find  out,"  said  Parker. 
"  We'll  keep  him  for  the  present,  will  we,  Polly?  " 

"  Will  we  ?  Am  I  a  brute  to  turn  a  baby  out  into  the 
worruld  ?  An'  on  a  day  when  he's  fetched  home  to  me 
by  me  own  man  ? " 

"  I'll  take  care  of  him,"  said  Agnes,  eagerly.  "  I'd 
love  to,  Polly.  Just  hand  him  over  to  me;  you've 
enough  of  your  own  to  look  after." 

"  But  I've  me  man  to  help  me  now,"  said  Polly,  joy- 
ously, looking  triumphantly  toward  Jimmy. 

"What  I  want  to  know  is  how  your  man  got  here, 
and  all  about  his  doings  all  this  time,"  said  Agnes. 
"  Tell  us,  Jimmy,  where  you  have  been  all  this  time." 

"  Faith,  then,  with  the  redskins.  They  borry'd  me 
suit  o'  hair  in  the  first  place,  an'  left  me  for  dead,  but 
dead  I  was  not,  though  uncomfortable  from  the  loss  av 
me  chief  adornmint,  an'  after  a  bit  one  av  'em  comes 
along:  'Ugh, 'says  he;  'Ugh,  yersel',' say  I;  'I'm  not  dead, 
though  I  look  it.'  Well,  he  tows  me  along  wid  him  to 
an  Injun  village,  and  they  beeta  keep  me  to  kindle  their 
fire  wid;  an'  whin  I  bursts  me  bonds  that  aisy,  bein* 
strong  in  me  muscles  an'  arrums,  as  ye  well  know, 
Polly,  they're  sort  o'  pleased,  an'  seein'  me  advantage, 
says  I,  '  I'll  do  ye  a  better  turn  than  to  be  kindlin'  a  fire 
fur  ye,  fur  a  blacksmith  I  am  be  birth,  an'  I'll  give  ye 
me  sarvice  in  exchange  fur  me  life.'  Well,  they  pow- 


WHAT   THE   FRESHET   BROUGHT  147 

wowed  over  it  fur  some  time,  some  agreein'  an'  some 
disagreein',  but  in  the  end  they  give  me  a  chanst  to  live, 
an*  I  won  the  chanst.  I  was  plannin'  to  escape  this 
long  back,  but  the  freshet  risin'  up  so  suddent  gimme 
the  opportunity  I'd  been  lookin'  fur,  an'  I  comes  in  the 
manner  I  stated.  I'd  no  time  fur  hat  or  wig,  Polly,  an' 
I'm  lucky  to  be  arrivin'  with  nayther." 

"  I  hope  they  didn't  treat  you  very  badly,"  said 
Agnes. 

"  No  so  bad ;  there  was  another  chap  of  me  own 
color,  paleface  as  they  say,  an'  he  had  been  with  'em 
this  long  while,  so  we  two  hobnobbed;  an'  though  he 
was  more  content  than  me,  we  got  along  fairly  well. 
He  said  as  all  o'  his'n  was  kilt,  he'd  no  call  to  leave, 
an'  he'd  not  take  the  risk,  so  I  kim  off  by  me  lone.  I'd 
ha'  gone  back  to  the  ould  settlemint,  but  I'd  ha'  had  me 
journey  for  naught." 

"  Indeed  would  ye,"  said  Polly.  "  What  did  I  tell 
ye  ?  "  She  turned  to  Agnes.  "  Would  I  give  up  hope? 
Not  I.  I've  looked  for  ye  night  an'  morn,  Jimmy 
dear,  an'  I  knew  I'd  see  ye  agin.  Faith  !  it's  but  the 
other  day  I  had  me  sign  sure,  an*  I  was  right  in  be- 
lavin'  in  it."  She  nodded  emphatically  in  Parker's 
direction,  and  he  was  obliged  to  confess  that  this  time 
the  sign  had  not  failed. 

"There's  wan  thing  I've  learned,  at  any  rate,"  Jimmy 
remarked  soberly,  passing  his  hand  over  his  bare  poll, 
"  I'll  nivir  agin  be  skeered  av  the  Injuns  scalpin*  me." 


148  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

At  which  all  laughed,  and  Polly  rapturously  embraced 
him.  Jimmy,  with  all  his  old  joking  ways,  was  hers 
again,  and  Polly  was  content. 

The  return  of  the  captive  was  a  matter  of  great  in- 
terest in  the  settlement,  and,  strange  to  say,  to  none 
more  than  to  Fergus  Kennedy  who  asked  his  tale  of 
adventure  over  and  over  again,  and  seemed  more 
brightened  up  by  Jimmy's  presence  than  by  any  one's. 

Agnes  rejoiced  with  the  rest,  but  she  was  a  little 
troubled  lest  Polly  should  wish  to  leave  her  before  the 
arrival  of  Mrs.  Kennedy,  this  being  just  the  opposite  of 
that  which  had  been  her  dilemma  a  short  time  before. 
How  easy  the  matter  would  be  settled  if  her  mother 
would  but  come  at  once,  and  they  could  all  go  to  the 
home  which  the  girl  still  insisted  to  herself  was  right- 
fully theirs.  She  did  not,  however,  consider  another 
point  in  the  case  till  Parker  Willett  asked  her  one  day 
if  she  didn't  think  that  now  Jimmy  had  come,  it  would 
be  better  for  him  to  take  up  a  piece  of  land  for  himself, 
and  leave  them  all  in  Jimmy's  care. 

Agnes,  with  Honey  in  her  lap,  toyed  with  the  child's 
flaxen  locks  before  she  answered.  Honey  had  attached 
himself  with  great  decision  to  Agnes,  and  she  was  be- 
ginning to  love  the  little  child  very  much.  He  seemed 
to  take  the  place  of  her  own  small  brothers  and  sisters 
more  than  Polly's  children  had  ever  done,  and  now 
that  Polly  was  so  absorbed  in  Jimmy,  the  girl  was 
lonely  at  times.  She  answered  Parker's  question  with 


WHAT  THE   FRESHET   BROUGHT  *  149 

another.      "  And  is  it  on  our  account   you  have  been 

staying  here  all  this  time?     You  know  I  suspected  it. 

And  you  risked  your  life  for  Jimmy  and  Honey  —  and 

-  should  you  go  far  ?  "  she  asked  a  little  tremulously. 

"  Not  farther  than  I  needs  must  to  find  a  good  bit 
of  land." 

"  You  will  not  leave  the  neighborhood  ?  "  She  was 
suddenly  conscious  that  for  her  there  would  be  a  greater 
vacuum  when  Parker  left  than  when  Archie  went 
away. 

"  No."  He  watched  the  girl's  downcast  face,  and 
he,  too,  was  aware  that  he  did  not  want  to  go  very  far 
away.  Yet  —  There  were  no  other  words  spoken  for 
a  moment,  and  then  the  girl  raised  her  eyes.  "  Do  you 
remember  how  we  said  at  the  time  of  the  freshet  that 
it  wasn't  worth  while  to  borrow  trouble?  And  look 
what  the  freshet  did  for  Polly,  though  it  did  destroy  a 
part  of  our  garden." 

"  And  therefore  you  think  my  going  away  need  not 
be  an  unalloyed  disaster  ?  That  is  very  pleasant  to 
know.  I  was  hardly  conceited  enough  to  think  it 
would  cause  any  very  great  sorrow." 

Agnes's  fair  face  flushed.  "  I  meant  that  it  might  be 
the  means  of  bringing  you  good  fortune,  and  that 
would  be  a  pleasure  to  your  friends,  however  much 
they  might  miss  you."  She  had  grown  much  gentler 
since  the  coming  of  Honey  among  them,  Parker  was 
quick  to  perceive. 


150  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

• 
"  If  you  keep  on  being  so  sweetly  philosophical,  I'm 

afraid  you  will  soon  be  ready  to  be  a  minister's  wife," 
he  said  with  a  half  smile. 

Agnes  compressed  her  lips.  "  Oh,  do  you  think 
so  ? "  she  returned  coldly.  Then,  after  a  pause,  "  Yes, 
I  am  quite  sure  that  Jimmy  will  be  ample  protection 
for  us,  and  as  it  is  for  your  pleasure  and  profit  to  go 
away,  I  advise  you  to  do  it." 

There  was  a  womanliness  in  her  manner  of  speech 
that  set  him  wondering.  Was  it  the  reminder  of  the 
minister's  wife  that  so  suddenly  changed  her  ?  Perhaps, 
after  all,  it  was  not  Honey,  but  Archie  who  was  the 
cause  of  the  new  gentleness.  She  was  trying  to  pre- 
pare herself  for  that  new  life  with  Archie ;  that  was 
it.  "Well,  little  girl,"  he  said  lightly,  "then  I  will  go; 
but  I  shall  keep  track  of  you,  and  I  shall  see  you 
sometimes." 

Sometimes !  He  who  had  been  a  part  of  her  daily 
life  for  all  these  months  would  see  her  only  sometimes, 
just  as  she  was  learning  his  worth  and  her  own  depend- 
ence upon  him.  She  laid  her  cheek  against  Honey's 
hair,  and  the  touch  gave  her  comfort.  "Poor  little 
baby,"  she  said,  "  I  wonder  whether  your  mother  is 
grieving  for  you.  I  almost  hope  he  has  no  mother." 

"Perhaps  he  has  not.     Would  you  like  to  know?" 

"  We  ought  to  know." 

"  We  have  tried  to  find  out,  you  remember,  but  we 
can  try  again.  I  am  going  up  the  river  a  short  dis- 


WHAT  THE  FRESHET  BROUGHT      151 

tance  to-morrow,  —  now  that  the  water  has  subsided,  it 
will  be  safe  to  go  —  and  I'll  make  inquiry  of  every  one 
along  the  way.  Dod  Hunter  knows  every  one,  and  he 
may  be  able  to  tell.  I  am  going  his  way." 

"Oh!" 

"  I  heard  of  some  good  land  in  that  direction  and  I 
want  to  look  it  up." 

"  Across  the  river  ? " 

"Yes.  Have  you  seen  the  M'Cleans  lately?"  he 
asked  abruptly. 

"I  saw  them  Sabbath." 

"Have  they  heard  from  Archie?" 

"  Not  yet ;  they  expect  to  any  day  now.  I  miss 
Archie,"  she  said  simply. 

"  I  should  think  you  would ;  he  was  by  far  the  best 
of  the  lads  around  here.  But  some  day,  you  know  —  " 

"  What  ? " 

"  Did  I  not  say  just  now  that  you  were  fast  becom- 
ing fitted  to  be  a  minister's  wife?" 

"  Thank  you."  The  voice  was  very  low.  They  were 
both  silent  for  a  time,  and  then  Parker  left  her  with  the 
evening's  sunshine  in  her  hair.  Why,  now  that  he  must 
leave  her,  had  the  girl  suddenly  appeared  so  fair  to  him  ? 
This  new  sweetness  sat  well  upon  her.  How  deeply 
blue  were  her  eyes,  and  what  tender  lights  came  into 
them  when  she  spoke  of  little  Honey.  Yes,  it  was 
better  that  he  should  go  now  —  at  once ;  later  it  might  be 
harder.  A  minister's  wife  she  would  be,  and  as  the 


152  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

years  passed  by  and  she  had  learned  her  lessons  of 
patience  and  unselfish  devotion,  how  lovable  she  would 
become  to  those  of  her  husband's  congregation.  "  I 
am  a  middle-aged  man  in  her  eyes,"  he  said  aloud,  "  and 
it  would  be  cruel  to  disturb  her  little  tender  heart  now 
when  all  is  settled  for  her,  and  yet  —  and  yet  —  "  He 
stood  so  long  leaning  on  the  fence  that  Agnes,  watch- 
ing him,  wondered  a  little. 

"  He  is  thinking  of  home,  maybe,  and  of  his  sister. 
He  will  be  so  lonely  off  by  himself  and  —  oh,  I  shall  be 
lonely,  too.  Oh,  Honey,  I,  too.  Polly  has  her  Jimmy, 
and  poor  father  does  not  know,  and  if  they  take  you,  — 
oh,  Honey,  if  they  take  you,  —  how  can  I  stand  it  ?  But 
there  is  mother,"  she  said  presently ;  "  she  will  be  com- 
ing soon." 

"  Mammy,"  said  Honey.  "  Dad  put  Honey  in  a  tree, 
an'  it  sailded  away.  I  lubs  Nanny  an'  I  'ants  my 
supper." 

"  Honey  shall  have  his  supper,"  Agnes  told  him,  and 
she  carried  him  into  the  house  to  have  his  mush  and 
milk  with  the  other  children.  Then  she  crept  to  her 
loft  room.  From  the  window  she  could  see  that  Parker 
was  still  leaning  on  the  fence.  Behind  the  hills  the  sun 
was  setting  in  a  gorgeous  sky.  The  willows  emerging 
from  the  late  waste  of  waters  showed  their  first  tender 
green ;  the  hylos  piped  shrilly.  Agnes's  heart  throbbed 
painfully.  A  beautiful  world,  and  out  of  troubles  some- 
times arise  blessings.  She  heard  Jimmy's  cheerful 


WHAT  THE   FRESHET   BROUGHT  153 

voice  below  relating  adventures  to  her  father  whose 
pleased  smile  she  fancied  she  could  see.  "  I  am  lonely, 
lonely,"  cried  the  girl.  She  arose  from  her  little  stool 
by  the  window  and,  with  a  sudden  resolve,  clambered 
down  the  ladder.  Polly  had  stowed  all  the  babies  away 
in  the  trundle-bed,  and  the  four  were  fast  asleep. 
"  Where  are  you  going,  Nancy  ?  "  Polly  asked. 

"  Out  to  smell  the  spring,"  was  the  answer,  as  the 
girl  shut  the  door  behind  her.  She  followed  the  path 
uphill  to  the  top.  Before  she  reached  the  figure  stand- 
ing there  she  paused.  The  glory  of  the  sky  was  to  be 
seen  more  plainly  here.  From  the  hollow  below  one 
might  imagine  the  day  to  be  done,  but  here  one  could 
see  that  rosy  clouds  swept  across  the  sky  and  the  yellow 
light  along  the  horizon  still  shone  clearly. 

Conscious  of  her  presence,  Parker  turned  suddenly. 
She  came  and  stood  by  his  side.  "One  sees  things 
more  distinctly  from  a  height,"  he  said  musingly. 

"  Yes,  it  is  quite  dark  indoors.  I  was  so  lonely  and 
I  —  I  saw  you  here  by  yourself.  You  will  be  lonely, 
too,  so  often  now,  for  you  are  going  away  —  you  are 
going  away."  There  was  a  little  catch  in  her  voice, 
and  the  man  at  her  side  put  forth  his  hand  and  took 
hers,  cold  and  trembling,  in  his.  Agnes  looked  up.  His 
touch  brought  comfort.  "  I'm  not  going  to  be  a  minis- 
ter's wife,"  she  said,  her  lips  quivering.  "  I  could 
never  be." 

"Oh,  little  girl,  little  girl,"  he  said  softly,  "how  did 


154  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

you  know  so  well  what  to  come  and  tell  me  ?  I  was 
lonely,  too,  as  lonely  as  you  were,  but  I  am  older,  much 
older,  and  one  must  bear  those  things.  It  is  harder 
than  you  know  for  me  to  go  away,  but  it  is  best.  A 
man  must  make  his  own  home." 

"  Yes,"  faltered  Agnes,  "  I  know." 

"  But  I'll  come  back." 

"  You  said  sometimes,  only  sometimes." 

"  I  mean  very  often."  He  looked  down  at  her  but 
checked  the  word  that  rose  to  his  lips.  "  It  would  not 
be  fair,"  he  told  himself.  "  I  have  my  way  to  make," 
he  said  aloud,  "  and  there  are  some  things,  some  ties 
there  at  home,  you  know,  some  things  that  in  honor 
I  cannot  forget." 

"Yes."  It  was  all  that  Agnes  could  say,  but  she  was 
comforted  beyond  words,  and  the  glory  of  the  west  was 
reflected  on  the  face  of  each  as  they  turned  from  the 
hilltop  toward  the  little  cabin  nestled  in  the  shadows 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill. 


CHAPTER   X 
HONEY 

THE  next  morning  Parker  started  forth  in  search 
of  his  land.  Agnes  watched  him  from  her  loft 
room ;  a  new  feeling  of  interest  possessed  her.  This 
man  who  had  come  to  them  first  as  an  interloper,  and 
next  had  taken  his  place  as  a  member  of  the  household, 
was  now  become  a  person  of  the  greatest  consideration 
to  her.  How  strange  it  seemed !  Was  his  feeling  for 
her  only  one  of  comradeship,  or  of  pity  for  her  loneli- 
ness ?  She  remembered  his  warm  clasp  of  her  hand, 
the  look  he  gave  her  as  they  turned  their  backs  to  the 
sunset.  "  Oh,  I  am  happy,"  she  murmured,  "  and  I 
want  my  mother."  She  was  so  long  and  so  quiet  up 
there  in  her  little  room  that  Polly  at  last  called  to  her, 
"  Your  baby  is  fretting  for  you." 

Then  Agnes  hurried  down  to  take  Honey  in  her  arms 
and  to  carry  him  out  into  the  spring  sunshine  where  her 
father  was  working.  Honey  chuckled  with  glee  at  sight 
of  Fergus  Kennedy.  He  had  taken  a  great  fancy  to 
both  father  and  daughter,  and  preferred  to  be  with 
them  rather  than  to  play  with  Polly's  children,  who,  it 

'55 


156  A   GENTLE  PIONEER 

must  be  confessed,  were  inclined  to  "  put  upon  him," 
as  Polly  herself  declared. 

Jimmy  was  bestirring  himself  and  filling  the  place 
with  his  large,  cheerful  presence.  "  How  different,  how 
different  he  is  from  Parker,"  Agnes  thought.  Polly  was 
boisterous  enough,  but  Polly,  supplemented  by  a  being 
twice  as  big  and  noisy  and  loud-voiced,  gave  Agnes  a 
sense  of  being  overpowered.  She  would  not  have  ad- 
mitted to  any  one  that  Polly  was  not  a  joy,,  a  delightful 
companion,  but  it  was  nevertheless  a  fact  that  Polly  and 
Jimmy  were  too  much  for  her,  in  certain  moods,  and 
this  morning  she  was  glad  to  escape  from  the  house. 

The  news  of  Jimmy's  return  brought  many  of  the 
neighbors  to  see  him  and  to  hear  of  his  exploits ;  some 
came,  too,  to  offer  aid  in  whatever  direction  he  might 
require.  "  It's  but  me  forge  I  want,"  he  told  them  all, 
"wanst  I  have  that,  I'll  make  mesel'  useful  to  ye 
all." 

Parker  Willett's  going  to  hunt  up  a  claim  was  a  sub- 
ject that  Agnes  did  not  care  to  hear  discussed,  though 
as  she  went  out  of  the  house  she  heard  Polly  say :  "  It's 
the  dilicate  way  he's  been  brought  up,  maybe ;  but  he's 
been  pinin'  for  his  own  this  manny  a  day,  I'll  be  bound, 
an'  belike  he's  a  lass  at  home  that  he's  thinking  of  goin' 
back  for.  Faith !  he'd  ought  to  he  married ;  he's  old 
enough  this  long  while." 

"  Maybe  he's  been  waitin'  for  you  to  serve  your  time 
o*  mournin',"  said  Jimmy,  jocularly,  and  Polly  laughed 


HONEY  157 

hilariously,  giving  him  a  sounding  slap  on  the  back  at 
the  suggestion. 

"  A  girl  at  home.  Maybe  that  was  it,  and  that  was 
why  he  was  thinking,  thinking,  so  long  last  night," 
Agnes  said  to  Honey.  "Oh,  Honey,  Honey,  maybe  after 
all  he  said  no  more  because  he  is  in  honor  bound.  Oh, 
Honey,  Honey."  She  sat  down  and  gathered  the  child 
into  her  arms,  weaving  back  and  forth  sorrowfully. 
Honey  put  up  his  little  hand  and  patted  her  cheek. 
"  Don'  ky,  Nanny,  Honey  lubbs  oo,"  he  said  coax- 
ingly. 

Agnes  kissed  him.  " Come,"  she  said,  "we'll  go  find 
daddy."  Honey  nodded.  The  plan  suited  him  exactly. 
He  had  accepted  his  new  surroundings  with  equanimity 
after  the  first  day  when  he  had  called  for  mammy  and 
daddy,  but  now  he  had  Nanny  and  Daddy  Kennedy,  he 
seemed  quite  content. 

It  was  a  weary  day  for  Agnes ;  she  longed  for  yet 
dreaded  the  return  of  Parker,  for  she  persuaded  herself 
that  it  was  as  Polly  had  suggested,  and  that  he  had  left 
his  heart  down  there  in  Virginia,  and  she  was  to  him 
but  a  little  girl  who  had  won  his  sympathy.  "  Yet,  why  ? 
Why?"  she  said  more  than  once,  as  she  remembered 
that  last  evening.  "  '  A  man  must  make  his  own  home,' 
he  said.  We  have  kept  him  from  doing  that,  and  now, 
now  he  will  go  away  and  he  should  have  done  so  before. 
Why  didn't  he  go  ?  Why  didn't  he  ?  "  she  asked  pas- 
sionately. "  What  was  it  he  said  about  some  tie  at 


158  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

home  ?  some  things  that  in  honor  he  could  not  forget  ? 
I  did  not  think  then  what  he  meant,  but  I  know  now. 
He  said  he  was  older,  so  much  older ;  I  am  only  a  little 
girl  to  him." 

She  did  not  run  down  to  watch  for  his  coming  as  she 
had  at  first  intended  to  do,  but  toward  night  her  ears 
were  alert  for  the  slightest  sound,  so  that  Polly  chaffed 
her  for  her  nervousness.  "  You've  skeert  her  with  your 
tales  of  Injuns,"  she  said  to  Jimmy;  "  she'll  be  lookin' 
for  them  at  ivery  turn  now.  Law,  Nancy,  you  all  but 
skeered  me  !  What  is  it  ?  "  For  at  the  sound  of  ap- 
proaching hoof  beats  Agnes  had  started  to  her  feet. 

"  Nothing,  at  least  I  thought  I  heard  something,"  she 
stammered. 

"  Well,  you  are  skeery  to-night.  That's  nothin'  but 
Park  Willett  comin'  back.  You've  heard  his  horse's 
hoofs  often  enough  not  to  jump  out  of  your  skin  when 
he's  comin'.  Come,  set  him  a  place  at  the  table  ;  he'll 
be  hungry.  I  hardly  thought  he'd  be  back  to-night." 

Agnes  was  only  too  ready  for  an  occupation  which 
would  take  attention  from  herself,  and  she  disappeared 
into  the  lean-to  just  as  Parker  entered  the  door.  He 
greeted  them  all  pleasantly,  but  seemed  quiet  and  pre- 
occupied, eating  his  supper  in  silence.  "  Where's 
Honey  ? "  he  asked,  as  he  pushed  away  his  bowl  and 
trencher. 

"  Asleep  long  ago,"  Polly  told  him. 

Parker  sat  looking  thoughtfully  at  the  empty  bowl. 


HONEY  159 

"Where's  Agnes?"  he  asked  abruptly,  pushing  back 
his  stool. 

Polly  looked  around.  "  She  was  here  a  bit  ago.  She 
brought  in  your  supper.  I  think  she's  in  the  lean-to. 
Agnes,  Nancy,  where  are  ye  kapin'  yersel'  ?  Don't 
mope  there  in  the  dark,  lass." 

As  Agnes  appeared  Parker  shot  a  swift  glance  at 
her,  but  she  did  not  look  at  him  in  return,  instead  she 
crept  around  to  the  settle  where  her  father  was  and 
cuddled  down  by  his  side. 

"Well,"  said  Jimmy,  "what  luck,  man?  Have  ye 
rid  far  to-day?" 

"  Not  so  far.  I  was  across  the  river.  I  think  I've 
found  the  land  I  want." 

"  That's  good.     A  likely  piece  ? " 

"  It  seems  so." 

"  Where  is  it  ? "  asked  Polly. 

"Just  beyond  Muirhead's.  Dod  Hunter  told  me 
of  it." 

"Muirhead,  Muirhead,  I  mind  that  name,"  said 
Jimmy,  thoughtfully. 

Parker  turned  to  Agnes.  There  was  a  grave  look  on 
his  face.  "  I  found  where  Honey  belongs,"  he  said 
without  preliminary.  "  He  is  Hump  Muirhead's  son." 

"  Oh  !  "  Agnes  started  up,  the  color  dying  out  of 
her  face.  Then  she  sat  down  again,  and,  burying  her 
face  on  her  father's  shoulder,  she  burst  into  tears. 

"  There,  there,  child,  don't  greet  so,"  said  Polly.     "  I 


l6o  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

suppose  his  mother  is  as  fond  of  him  as  you  are,  even  if 
she  is  Hump  Muirhead's  wife." 

"  She  is  very  fond  of  him ;  so  is  the  father,  Dod 
Hunter  told  me,"  Parker  went  on  to  say.  "  They  have 
been  nearly  distracted  at  the  loss  of  the  child.  It  seems 
the  old  stump  was  one  in  which  the  boy  was  often  placed 
when  his  father  was  at  work;  he  was  fond  of  taking 
him  out  with  him,  and  the  little  rascal  must  have  run 
off  and  climbed  into  the  stump  himself  one  day  when 
his  father  was  away.  Perhaps  he  fell  asleep  waiting 
for  his  father  to  come,  and  meantime  the  stream  rose  and 
loosened  the  stump,  so  off  it  sailed.  It  is  a  miracle  that 
it  didn't  overturn  and  drown  the  boy.  At  all  events,  it's 
Muirhead's  boy,  and  I  shall  restore  him  to  his  parents 
to-morrow  bright  and  early,  or  rather,  I'll  take  him  as 
far  as  Dod  Hunter's,  and  he  will  see  that  he  gets  home 
all  right." 

"I'm  sorry  to  part  with  the  little  chap,"  said  Polly, 
"but  I  know  what  the  feelin's  of  that  mother  must  be. 
It's  a  wonder  we  did  not  find  out  before  who  he 
belonged  to." 

"  Muirhead  doesn't  come  over  this  side  of  the  river 
very  often,  and  since  the  freshet  most  of  the  people 
over  there  have  been  kept  away  by  the  high  water  and 
the  bad  roads.  They  never  doubted  but  the  child  was 
drowned,  Dod  says.  I  saw  Jerry,  Polly.  He  sent  his 
respects  to  you,  and  his  congratulations  upon  Jimmy's 
return." 


HONEY  l6l 

Polly  laughed  a  little  consciously.  She  knew  quite 
well  that  the  fact  of  Jimmy's  return  was  rather  a  blow 
to  Jerry. 

Agnes  had  dried  her  tears  and  gone  over  to  the 
trundle-bed  where  the  row  of  rosy  children  were  sleep- 
ing. Honey  was  her  little  cousin,  and  they  were  going 
to  take  him  from  her.  His  father  was  her  enemy,  and 
she  could  not  hope  to  see  the  child  again.  She  sat 
watching  the  little  sleeper,  feeling  very  sorrowful  at  the 
prospect  of  the  morrow's  parting. 

All  at  once  Jimmy  gave  his  knee  a  sounding  slap. 
"I  have  it,"  he  cried.  "What  a  dunderhead  I  am! 
To  be  sure,  I  know  the  name  o'  Muirhead.  Who 
better  ?  I  hope  I've  not  lost  it,"  he  muttered.  Slip- 
ping his  great  hand  inside  his  hunting-shirt,  he  added, 
as  he  drew  forth  a  packet,  "  An*  I  hope  it's  not  sp'ilt  by 
the  wettin'  I  got."  He  slowly  fumbled  with  the  thongs 
which  tied  the  wrapping  of  deerskin.  Polly  watched 
him  curiously,  and  Parker  drew  near,  hardly  less  curi- 
ous. Having  satisfied  himself  that  the  contents  of  the 
packet  were  uninjured,  Jimmy  turned  to  Parker.  "  This 
Muirhead,"  he  said,  "  what  might  his  first  name  be  ?  " 

"  Humphrey.  They  call  him  Hump  Muirhead  about 
here." 

Jimmy  nodded  assent.  "  That's  straight.  Father  of 
the  young  un  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  boy's  name  is  Humphrey,  too ;  but  he  can 
get  no  nearer  to  it  than  Honey,  and  so  he  is  called." 


162  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  Well,  that's  not  in  the  case,"  said  Jimmy,  with  an 
air  of  importance  which  was  rather  funny.  "  He'd  a 
father,  I  suppose,  this  Muirhead  ? " 

Parker  glanced  quickly  at  Agnes,  kneeling  by  the 
trundle-bed.  "  He  had  a  father  who  was  captured 
and  probably  killed  by  the  Indians." 

"Correct  agin,"  said  Jimmy.  "There  was  Another 
child,  a  daughter,  was  there  ?  Why — faith  !  if  this  isn't  a 
purty  how-de-do.  Come  here,  Nancy,"  he  called  sharply. 
Agnes  came  over  and  sat  down  again  by  her  father. 
"  What's  your  mother's  name  ? "  asked  Jimmy. 

"  Margaret  Kennedy." 

"  And  before  she  was  married  ? " 

"  Margaret  Muirhead." 

"  Of  Carlisle  ? " 

"  Yes,  of  Carlisle.  She  is  the  daughter  of  Humphrey 
Muirhead." 

"Then,"  —  Jimmy  leaned  back  and  carefully  spread  out 
upon  his  knee  a  bit  of  paper,  the  worse  for  wear,  —  "  it's 
a  quare  thing  I've  here,  an'  it's  quarer  still  that  I  'ud 
be  bringin'  it  at  wanst  to  the  right  place,  an'  that  I 
come  mesel'  fust  off  without  so  much  as  knowin'  where 
I  was.  But  the  workin's  av  Providence  is  mortial 
strange.  This  here  bit  o'  paper  on  me  knee  here,"  —  he 
tapped  it  with  his  heavy  finger,  —  "  this  here's  nothin'  less 
than  a  will,  yer  gran'ther's  will,  Nancy  Kennedy." 

"  A  will !  "     Agnes  started  to  her  feet  again. 

Jimmy  waved  her  back.     "  Jest  wait  a  bit,  an*  I'll  tell 


HONEY  163 

me  tale ;  sure  it's  a  good  wan  as  ye'd  find  in  a  book. 
Yer  gran'ther  was  took  be  the  Injuns  an'  condemned  to 
death  some  five  or  six  year  back  as  I  understand.  The 
same  band  o'  marauders  that  took  Jimmy  O'Neill  took 
him,  but  he  wa'n't  so  lucky  as  Jimmy,  havin'  been  dead 
this  manny  a  day,  pore  soul.  Well,  faith,  sirs,  in  that 
same  camp  o'  Injuns  was  the  same  white  man  I  was 
tellin'  ye  about  a  while  back,  an'  when  it  come  that 
Muirhead  knowed  he'd  have  to  die,  he  gits  a  chanst 
to  have  spache  with  the  paleface,  who'd  been  adopted 
like  into  the  tribe,  an'  is  given  some  privileges.  Says 
Muirhead,  *  I've  got  to  die,  an'  if  yer  a  friend  an'  a 
brother,  ye'll  do  me  a  turn,'  says  he.  '  I've  made  me 
will,  but  not  signed  it,  an'  it's  in  me  home,'  sez  he,  '  an* 
no  good  is  it  there  at  all,  since  I  can't  reach  me  hand 
so  far  to  make  me  mark  to  it.  Now  it's  poor  the  chanst 
is,  but  I'd  like  to  take  it,  an'  I've  a  bit  av  paper  here, 
the  back  av  a  letter,  that'll  do.  I'll  make  another  will 
an'  sign  it  in  yer  prisence  an*  in  the  prisence  o'  some 
o'  me  comrades  that's  been  took  wid  me,  an'  if  ye'll 
skirmish  'round  an'  fetch  me  the  paint  pot  the  Injuns 
uses  for  their  decraytin',  I'll  be  obliged  to  ye.' " 

The  auditors  were  listening  eagerly ;  it  was  surely  a 
strange  tale.  Jimmy  sat  looking  into  the  fire  for  a  mo- 
ment before  he  went  on.  "  The  white  man,  Brown  be 
name,  got  him  the  paint,  an*  Muirhead  wrote,  wid  a 
quill,  what's  here.  Will  ye  be  kind  enough  to  read  it, 
Mr.  Willett?" 


1 64  A   GENTLE  PIONEER 

He  handed  it  to  Parker  who  took  it  carefully  and 
read :  — 

"  I,  Humphrey  Muirhead,  being  of  sound  mind, 
and  being  at  the  point  of  death  at  the  hands  of  Indians, 
do  hereby  make  my  last  will  and  testament.  To  my 
daughter,  Margaret  Kennedy,  of  Carlisle,  wife  of 
Fergus  Kennedy,  and  her  heirs,  I  will  and  bequeath 
all  whereof  I  die  possessed  whether  real  or  personal 
estate,  with  the  exception  of  one  shilling  which  I  give 
to  my  son  Humphrey  Muirhead. 

"(Signed)  HUMPHREY  MUIRHEAD. 

"October  15,  1793. 

{JOHN  STARK, 
WILLIAM  BROWN, 
HENRY  FOSTER." 

"  What'd  .1  tell  ye  ?  Hear  to  that !  "  cried  Polly,  in 
ecstasy. 

"  Me  tale's  not  done,"  said  Jimmy,  with  a  silencing 
nod.  "  He  furthermore  says  to  Brown :  '  It's  a  poor 
chanst  fur  me  daughter  to  git  her  own,  but  if  be  at 
any  time  ye  see  a  chanst  o'  gittin  this  to  me  friends, 
give  it  to  anny  one  that'll  take  it,'  says  he.  '  I'll  trust 
ye/  he  says,  'bein'  as  yer  one  o'  me  own  race.'  Well, 
Brown,  he'd  not  then  made  up  his  mind  to  tarry  along 
with  the  redskins,  an'  he  says  he'll  take  it.  So  the 
next  day  Muirhead,  poor  soul,  is  despatched,  an'  Brown 
keeps  the  bit  o'  paper.  He's  a  quare  fish,  is  Brown. 
The  Injuns  make  him  wan  o'  themt  an'  he'll  not  return 


HONEY  165 

to  his  own  when  he  gits  a  chanst,  but  I  misdoubt  it 
ain't  for  a  rayson,  fur  more'n  wan  o'  his  own  color 
has  he  been  able  to  git  off  to  their  friends.  He  didn't 
put  obstacles  in  my  way  o'  goin' ;  in  truth,  he  rayther 
encouraged  it,  an'  he  trusted  this  to  me ;  '  For,'  says  he, 
'if  anybody  kin  git  away,  it's  yersel',  Jimmy  O'Neill, 
who's  so  strong.  An'  if  ye  kin  seek  out  the  darter  o' 
this  man  Muirhead,  he'll  lie  aisier  in  his  grave  if  grave 
he  had,  poor  soul.'  " 

"  Oh,  poor  grandfather,  poor  grandfather !  "  sobbed 
Agnes. 

"  Now  don't  greet,  child,"  said  Polly.  "  He's  at  rest 
this  long  while." 

But  the  tale  had  a  silencing  effect  upon  them  all,  and 
they  sat  for  some  time,  each  pondering  over  it.  It  was 
Parker  who  broke  the  silence  by  saying,  "This  will 
oust  Humphrey  Muirhead  from  his  snug  quarters,  and 
give  your  mother,  Agnes,  the  house  you  want  for  her." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  returned  Agnes,  in  a  subdued  voice, 
"  but  ah  me,  how  strange  it  is  that  in  this  much  desired 
thing  there  should  be  a  sting,  for  we  must  rob  dear 
little  Honey  of  his  home." 

"  He's  too  young  to  know  the  difference,"  said  Polly, 
sharply,  "and  his  father's  well  able  to  make  him 
another.  He's  no  worse  off,  an'  not  so  bad  as  my 
bairns  were  when  they  were  driven  out  with  no  one 
but  their  mother  to  do  for  them." 

Jimmy  patted  Polly's  plump  hand.     "  It's  the  good 


166  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

mother  ye  were,  Polly,  an'  the  bairns  do  ye  credit.  Well, 
this  is  a  strange  piece  of  news  all  around ;  it's  more 
of  a  tangle  than  ye' 11  unsnarl  in  one  evening,  I'm  think- 
ing. Now,  what's  yer  tale  ?  I  don't  git  quite  the  rights 
av  it." 

Polly  told  him  of  Agnes's  quest  and  of  the  surly  re- 
ception she  had  received ;  of  Dod  Hunter's  account  of 
Humphrey  Muirhead's  first  wife  and  of  his  son,  and  at 
last  the  situation  was  clear  to  Jimmy.  "Then  who'll 
show  the  gintleman  the  will  ?  "  he  asked.  "  I'll  wager 
he'll  drop  his  feathers  when  he  sees  it.  I'm  ready  to 
vouch  for  my  part  of  the  tale." 

"  I  am  going  over  again  soon,"  said  Parker,  "  and  if 
you  will  trust  the  will  to  me,  I'll  face  Mr.  Humphrey 
Muirhead  and  learn  what  he  has  to  say.  I  am  very  sure 
that  I  should  much  prefer  Mr.  Kennedy  for  a  neighbor 
to  Hump  Muirhead ;  it  is  mainly  on  his  account  that  I 
have  hesitated  about  the  land ;  they  say  he  can  be  an 
ugly  neighbor  if  he  takes  a  dislike  to  any  one." 

Jimmy  replaced  the  bit  of  paper  in  its  deerskin  cover- 
ing. "  I  reckon  it's  as  well  to  keep  this  out  of  sight  till 
ye  see  how  the  land  lays,"  he  said.  "  If  so  be  he  wants 
to  see  it,  ye  can  take  it  to  him  or  he  kin  come  here  an* 
have  a  look  at  it.  Meantime  we'll  keep  quiet  an'  wait 
till  he  shows  fight.  That's  best,  ain't  it,  Fergus  ?  "  He 
addressed  Agnes's  father  who  nodded  assent.  He  had 
not  taken  in  the  gist  of  the  matter,  but  was  quite  will- 
ing to  agree  with  Jimmy  O'Neill,  who  somehow  appeared 


HONEY  167 

to  be  able  to  arouse  him  from  his  apathy  more  than  any 
one  else. 

In  the  morning  Parker  bore  Honey  away,  Agnes 
shedding  many  tears  over  the  child,  to  the  baby's 
amazement  and  Parker's  distress.  "  Don't,  little  girl," 
he  said  softly,  as  he  leaned  down  from  his  saddle  and 
touched  her  hand.  "  Think  of  that  will,  and  of  how 
everything  will  come  out  finely  for  you."  But  Agnes 
did  not  respond ;  instead,  she  turned  and  went  into  the 
house  while  Parker  galloped  off,  holding  Honey  snugly 
in  front  of  him,  the  little  fellow  delighted  enough  to  be 
taking  the  ride. 

It  was  a  lonely  day  for  the  girl,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  she  now  could  look  forward  to  possessing  that 
longed-for  home  of  her  grandfather's.  Yet,  though  she 
tried  to  picture  all  her  family  gathered  together  under 
one  roof,  and  the  happy  reunion  that  now  could  not  be 
very  far  away,  she  felt  an  undercurrent  of  sadness  that 
accompanied  all  her  thoughts.  "  He  said  he  would  like 
to  be  our  neighbor,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  and  he  will  be 
that,  but  if  he  brings  home  a  wife,  I  would  rather  he 
would  be  far  away."  She  went  about  her  work  so  list- 
lessly that  Polly  was  quite  concerned.  "  I  didn't  sup- 
pose that  baby  'ud  take  such  a  holt  on  ye,"  she  said. 
"I  tell  ye  what  ye  better  do,  Nancy;  just  go  over  to 
Jeanie  M'Clean's.  Ye've  been  so  clost  at  home  with 
that  young  un  that  ye've  skeerce  been  off  the  clearin'. 
Ye  beeta  have  some  change.  Ye  kin  git  the  news 


168  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

they'll  be  havin',  an*  if  they  want  ye  to  stay  awhile, 
there's  nothin'  to  hinder.  So  be  it'll  break  up  the  habit 
ye  have  o'  living  with  the  child." 

Agnes  agreed  with  Polly  that  this  would  be  a  good 
plan.  She  had  not  seen  Jeanie  for  some  time,  their  last 
meeting  being  the  Sabbath  before  at  church,  and  then 
they  had  not  had  the  opportunity  for  much  of  a  chat, 
for  David  was  in  attendance  and  Agnes  had  purposely 
kept  out  of  the  way.  She  began  pensively  to  wonder 
how  David's  courtship  came  on,  and  if  he  had  overcome 
his  shyness,  and  then  she  sighed.  "  Jeanie  shall  not  see 
that  I  am  out  of  spirits,"  she  said  to  herself,  as  she 
started  forth,  "for  she  will  not  understand  how  there 
could  be  any  reason  for  it  when  everything  is  going  so 
well,  and  I  do  not  know  myself  why  it  is.  I  am  a  silly 
little  goose,  that  is  all,  and  I  must  try  to  put  on  a  cheer- 
ful countenance  and  stop  dreaming  silly  dreams." 

And,  indeed,  as  she  ran  along  her  spirits  rose,  for 
spring  was  in  the  air,  and  there  is  hope  in  the  spring, 
even  though  it  does  awaken  all  the  longings  of  one's 
nature ;  and  as  Agnes  took  her  way  through  the  sweet- 
smelling  woods,  she  gradually  put  away  sorrowful 
thoughts,  remembering  only  that  she  would  see  her 
mother  soon,  and  that  it  was  Parker  himself  who  agreed 
with  her  that  out  of  evil  might  come  good.  Moreover, 
she  told  herself,  it  was  only  a  notion  of  Polly's  about 
his  having  a  sweetheart  in  Virginia.  Why  need  she 
believe  it  ?  There  was  nothing  to  prove  it  to  be  so. 


HONEY  169 

Having  taken  this  view  of  the  question,  she  was  soon  in 
a  happy  frame  of  mind.  The  birds  were  beginning  to 
be  heard  in  the  trees  overhead ;  at  her  feet  the  wild 
flowers  were  springing  up,  and  tender  shoots  of  green 
were  appearing  to  make  a  misty  distance.  The  world 
was  throbbing  with  expectant  life,  and  it  was  foolish  to 
suppose  that  a  youthful  heart  could  long  despair.  And 
therefore  Jeanie's  visitor  appeared  before  her  blithe  and 
smiling. 


CHAPTER   XI 

AT  THE  END    OF  THE  VISIT 

"  T  T  TELL,  you  are  a  stranger,"  was  Jeanie's  greet- 

V  \  ing.  "You've  not  been  here  for  two  weeks, 
and  I  hardly  had  a  glimpse  of  you  on  Sabbath  day. 
We  have  heard  from  Archie  since  then  and  I  have  been 
meaning  to  come  over  to  see  you,  but  we  are  so  busy 
nowadays  since  Archie  went  away ;  we  often  wish  you 
and  your  father  were  with  us  again." 

"  I've  been  busy,  too,"  said  Agnes,  seating  herself  on 
the  broad  stone  which  formed  the  doorstep  of  the 
M'Cleans'  cabin.  "  Ah,  but  I  have  much  to  tell  you, 
Jeanie;  it  seems  as  if  I  hadn't  seen  you  for  a  year. 
But  first,  what  of  Archie  ? " 

"  He  reached  grandfather's  safely  and  they  were 
overjoyed  to  see  him.  He  was  ready  to  begin  his 
studies,  and  will  it  not  be  fine  that  we  shall  have  a 
meenister  in  the  family  ? " 

"  How  did  the  letter  come,  and  was  there  none  for 
me?" 

"  There  was  but  a  line.  He  said  he  would  write 
again  by  the  first  opportunity.  He  had  yet  to  see  your 
mother,  but  would  go  at  once  and  deliver  your  mes- 

170 


AT  THE  END  OF  THE  VISIT  171 

sages.  He  had  a  chance  to  send  this  letter  at  a  few 
moments'  notice,  and  so  he  could  only  give  us  the 
account  of  his  health  and  his  prospects,  and  that  is 
about  all.  Are  you  disappointed  that  he  did  not  write 
to  you,  Nancy  ? " 

"  I  wanted  to  hear  of  my  mother.  I  hoped  she  would 
be  coming  soon,"  returned  Agnes,  evading  a  direct 
answer. 

"  Perhaps  she  will  be  here  'before  long ;  this  letter 
was  long  on  the  way  and  might  well  have  been  outrun 
by  one  travelling  more  swiftly  than  the  bearer  who 
stopped  often  along  the  way.  Now  your  news,  Nancy. 
Were  you  harmed  by  the  freshet  ?  and  isn't  it  mar- 
vellous that  Jimmy  O'Neill  should  have  come  back?" 

"  It  is  marvellous,  and  he  is  marvellous,  the  same  old 
roystering  Jimmy,  for  all  his  adventures.  And  it  is  so 
strange  to  see  him  with  no  hair  on  his  head  after  being 
used  to  that  bushy  poll  of  his.  Polly  is  so  happy  that 
she  is  noisier  than  ever;  indeed,  Jeanie,  betwixt  Polly 
and  Jimmy  and  the  bairns  there  is  little  quiet  to  be  had 
anywhere  unless  one  goes  off  into  the  woods." 

"  But  do  you  like  quiet  ? " 

"  Sometimes." 

"  Then  what's  come  over  you,  Nancy  Kennedy  ?  You 
were  a  regular  hoyden  when  last  I  saw  you,  and  you  to 
be  talking  of  liking  quiet."  And  Jeanie  laughed. 

"  Did  you  hear  about  Honey  ? "  Agnes  asked,  not 
noticing  the  laugh. 


172  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  What  Honey  ?     Whose  Honey  ?  " 

"  Muirhead's  Honey,  the  little  child  who  was  saved 
from  the  flood." 

"  Law,  no ;  at  least  I  did  hear  some  such  tale,  but  it 
passed  out  of  my  mind  at  the  news  of  Jimmy's  return." 

"  It  was  Jimmy  O'Neill  who  saved  the  baby  and 
Parker  Willett  who  rescued  them  both.  He  is  so  brave." 
Agnes  spoke  softly  and  with  a  far-away  look  upon  her 
face. 

"That  was  brave;  tell  me  about  it." 

"He  took  a  little  skiff  and  ventured  out  upon  that 
swift,  raging  water,  when  it  was  as  much  as  one's  life 
was  worth  to  go  a  rod  from  shore,  and  all  in  among 
those  tree-tops  along  by  the  run,  he  steered  the  boat  till 
he  reached  a  place  where  Jimmy  could  be  taken  in  the 
boat,  and  the  child,  too  ;  the  baby,  you  know,  was  tucked 
away  in  an  old  hollow  stump  and  was  sailing  down- 
stream that  way.  It  was  Jimmy  who  first  saw  him  and 
got  him  aboard  his  raft ;  but  they  could  not  have  reached 
shore  but  for  Parker,  and  he  lets  Jimmy  take  all  the 
credit,  and  will  not  listen  to  a  word  about  his  own  part 
in  it."  Agnes's  cheeks  glowed,  and  she  talked  excitedly. 

Jeanie  looked  at  her  in  surprise.  "  I  thought  you  did 
not  like  Mr.  Willett,  the  man  who  tried  to  rob  you  of 
your  home." 

"We  do  like  him."  Agnes  wisely  adopted  the  plural. 
"  He  didn't  know  that  the  house  belonged  to  us,  you 
know  that.  It  was  Muirhead  who  misled  him." 


AT   THE   END   OF   THE  VISIT  173 

"  Muirhead  again ;  he  is  a  disagreeable  uncle  to  have. 
Was  the  baby  really  his  ?  What  a  strange  thing  !  Is  it 
a  nice  baby,  Agnes,  or  disagreeable  like  his  father  ? " 

"  He  is  the  bonniest  bairnie,"  Agnes  replied.  "  I  love 
him,  and  I  am  glad  he  is  my  little  cousin,  though  I  shall 
probably  never  see  him  again.  Parker  Willett  took 
him  home  this  morning,  or  at  least  he  took  him  to  Dod 
Hunter's,  and  he  will  see  that  he  gets  home  safely.  I 
believe  the  reason  Mr.  Willett  didn't  take  him  all  the 
way  was  because  he  didn't  want  Hump  Muirhead  to 
think  he  had  any  part  in  saving  Honey.  I  venture  to 
say  he  has  told  Dod  that  it  was  all  Jimmy's  doings. 
Mr.  Willett  is  going  to  leave  us,  Jeanie." 

"  Is  he  ?  I  should  suppose  he  would,  now  that  Jimmy 
has  come.  I  don't  imagine  you  are  very  sorry." 

Agnes  was  silent,  but  the  color  rushed  to  her  face. 
"  We  shall  miss  him,"  she  said  after  a  moment.  "  I 
shall  particularly,"  she  went  on  bravely.  "  No  one  was 
ever  so  polite  and  kind  to  me  as  he,  for  he  never  will  let 
me  do  a  thing  which  he  can  do  for  me.  He  will  bring 
water  from  the  spring  and  will  get  up  early  to  work  in 
the  garden,  and  he  waits  on  me  as  if  I  were  a  prin- 
cess. Could  I  help  missing  him  ?  Jimmy  never  does 
those  things ;  he  isn't  lazy,  Jimmy  isn't,  but  he  expects 
us  to  do  all  the  little  things  while  he  does  only  the  big 
ones." 

"  That  is  more  manly." 

Agnes's  face  flamed.     "  No,  it  isn't ;  it  may  be  the 


1/4  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

way  of  men  like  Jimmy,  but  it  isn't  the  way  gentlemen 
like  Parker  Willett  do." 

"Why,  Nancy!"  Jeanie  looked  at  her  in  astonish- 
ment. "  You  certainly  do  stand  up  for  Mr.  Willett.  I 
think  he  is  handsome  and  polite  and  all  that,  but  I 
always  felt  that  he  was  hard  to  get  acquainted  with; 
I  mean  he  hasn't  our  everyday  ways." 

"I'm  glad  he  hasn't,"  Agnes  flashed  out  again. 

"  Oh,  you  are  very  complimentary.  Perhaps  you 
don't  like  our  ways,  either.  For  my  part  I  am  too  inde- 
pendent, and  I  hope  not  so  lazy  that  I  like  people  to 
wait  on  me ;  I  would  rather  do  for  myself  anything 
that  I  am  strong  enough  to  do,  and  let  the  men  attend 
to  their  own  work." 

"  I  would,  too,  in  a  measure ;  but  I  like  to  see  a  man 
ready  to  spare  a  woman  when  he  can,  and  I  didn't  mean 
your  ways,  for  your  ways  are  our  own,  too,  but  I  was 
thinking  of  Polly." 

"  But  you  like  Polly  and  try  to  be  like  her ;  you  are 
getting  to  be  quite  like  her;  we  have  all  been  thinking 
so." 

Agnes  looked  aghast.  "  I  didn't  know  it,"  she  said 
faintly.  "  I  don't  want  to  be.  Oh,  I'm  not.  I'm  not. 
Polly  is  a  dear,  good  woman,  but  —  but  —  Mr.  Willett's 
sister  wouldn't  be  like  her,  nor  his  mother.  I  can  fancy 
them,  the  mother  a  stately  dame,  and  the  sister  so 
dainty  and  sweet ;  I  wonder  he  can  stand  us." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Jeanie,  loftily. 


AT  THE   END   OF   THE   VISIT  175 

"We  are  good  enough  for  any  one.  If  he  doesn't  like 
us,  he  can  leave  us.  I'm  sure  nobody  cares  about 
having  him  here,  for  we  are  all  of  a  different  race,  any- 
how,—  I  don't  mean  that  exactly;  but  we  are  Scotch- 
Irish  and  like  to  go  with  our  own  kind,  and  he  is  a 
Church  of  England  man  and  is  cold  and  proud." 

"  He's  not;  he's  not  a  bit.  I'd  like  to  know  who  are 
prouder  and  more  clannish  than  these  same  Scotch- 
Irish,  and  Mr.  Willett  says  we  are  self-contained  and 
stand  off  by  ourselves,  and  that  is  what  all  strangers 
say  of  us.  You  shall  not  say  such  things  of  Mr.  Willett, 
Jeanie  M'Clean." 

"  Well,  I  declare !  I  believe  you  are  in  love  with 
him,"  exclaimed  Jeanie.  And  then  Agnes  burst  into 
tears,  and  at  the  same  moment  came  into  her  mind  a 
remembrance  of  how  she  had  teased  Jeanie  into  reveal- 
ing her  heart's  secret,  and  she  told  herself  that  this  was 
her  retribution.  Jeanie  sat  still  for  a  moment  in  a  state 
of  surprise.  Agnes  and  Archie  had  always  been  asso- 
ciated in  her  mind  as  lovers,  and  her  remark  was  meant 
not  to  strike  home,  but  was  simply  a  chance  shot 
directed  because  of  her  annoyance. 

She  waited  till  Agnes's  sudden  flurry  of  tears  was 
over,  and  then  she  put  an  arm  around  her.  "  I  oughtn't 
to  have  said  that,  Agnes,"  she  confessed,  "for  there  is 
Archie,  and  of  course  you  would  not  think  of  Mr.  Wil- 
lett ;  he  is  too  old  for  a  girl  like  you,  and  I  knew  you 
never  thought  of  him  in  that  way."  In  the  eyes  of  the 


176  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

seventeen-year-old  maid  to  be  twenty-five  was  to  be 
middle-aged.  "  I  knew  something  had  gone  wrong," 
she  went  on,  "when  I  told  you  we  had  heard  from 
Archie ;  I  knew  you  expected  a  letter,  and  it  is  a  hard 
thing  to  have  a  disappointment  like  that." 

Agnes  hung  her  head.  "  I  wasn't  thinking  of  the 
letter,  Jeanie,"  she  said  truthfully.  "I  think  Archie 
has  gone  out  of  my  life  altogether,  and  I  am  not  like  to 
marry  at  all,  for  there  will  be  mother  and  the  children, 
and  I  am  the  eldest." 

"  Yes ;  but  by  the  time  Archie  has  finished  his  studies 
Sandy  will  be  old  enough  to  manage,  and  the  others  will 
be  out  of  leading-strings.  I  am  the  eldest  at  home,  too, 
but  —  oh,  you  will  not  be  an  old  maid,  Agnes,  nor 
will  I." 

"  Nor  will  you  ?  No,  I  think  not,"  Agnes  smiled, 
"for  there  is  David." 

"Yes,  there  is  David.  That  is  one  of  the  other 
things  I  had  to  tell.  It  is  David." 

"  Really  ?  Really,  Jeanie  ? "  Agnes  caught  her 
friend's  hands  in  hers.  "  Has  he  summoned  courage  ? 
And  when  was  it  ?  and  when  will  it  be  ?  Tell  me  all. 
How  could  you  keep  it  all  this  time,  you  naughty  lassie  ?" 

"  I  kept  it  till  the  last.  I  wanted  to  tell  you  since 
last  Sabbath  day  when  he  came  to  sit  up  with  me,  and 
he  and  father  discoursed  so  long  upon  the  sermon  I 
thought  I'd  never  get  a  word  from  him  ;  but  when  mother 
was  putting  the  bairnies  to  bed,  father  heard  a  noise 


AT  THE   END   OF   THE   VISIT  177 

among  the  beasts,  and  he  went  out  to  see  what  it  was, 
and  so  —  and  so  —  then  we  were  alone,  and  it  was  so 
quiet,  oh,  so  quiet,  for  neither  of  us  spoke  for  a  long 
time,  and  then  I  laughed  and  said,  '  Why  don't  you  say 
something  ? '  And  he  —  he  did  say  something." 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  said  Agnes.  "  And  does  he  come 
every  evening  to  sit  up  with  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  every  evening,  and  we  are  to  be  married  this 
spring.  There  will  be  a  house-raising,  Nancy,  and  I 
am  very  happy  in  all  except  that  I  wish  Archie  were 
here.  Father  and  mother  are  quite  satisfied,  for  David 
is  sober  and  industrious  and  —  " 

"  I  am  a  witch." 

"  You  truly  are.  I  wish  now  you  would  bewitch  some 
one  yourself  and  follow  my  example  if  —  if  it  isn't 
Archie." 

Agnes's  face  grew  pensive.  "  I  am  not  bewitching 
in  that  way,  Jeanie." 

"  Ah,  but  you  are.  I  know  Mr.  Willett  is  rather  old, 
but  all  do  not  think  so,  for  that  Sabbath  when  you  rode 
to  meeting  with  him,  many  said  it  would  be  a  good 
thing  and  convenient  all  around ;  and  since  Jimmy  has 
come  back,  I  have  heard  more  speculation  upon  the 
same  subject." 

Agnes  shook  her  head.  "  I  know  the  gossips  will 
talk,  but  Jimmy's  coming  back  will  not  affect  that.  All 
is  not  settled  yet  nor  can  be  till  my  mother  comes.  My 
father  seems  brighter,  Jeanie.  Jimmy's  coming  seems 

N 


178  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

to  have  done  him  good  in  some  way.  I  think  Jimmy 
stirs  up  his  poor  brain  and  makes  it  work  better.  Of 
course  Jimmy  and  Polly  will  want  to  have  a  home  of 
their  own,  and  we  shall  have  ours,  but  how  and  when  I 
don't  know  yet.  Now,  let  us  talk  of  David." 

"  Indeed,  then,  I've  something  else  to  do,"  Jeanie  re- 
plied, laughing  and  jumping  up.  "We've  gossiped  so 
long  I  have  forgotten  my  work,  but  I  regret  naught  said 
except  your  calling  Parker  Willett  our  better." 

"  Indeed,  I  did  not  mean  that,  Jeanie.  He  is  no 
better,  but  different  in  his  ways." 

"  Ah,  that's  more  like  it.     We'll  leave  it  so,  then." 

The  little  settlement  had  thriven  apace,  and  now 
quite  a  village  had  sprung  up  around  and  beyond  the 
M'Cleans'.  There  was  talk  of  a  schoolmaster  for  the 
children,  and  a  site  for  the  log  schoolhouse  had  already 
been  selected.  Better  dwellings,  too,  were  to  be  seen 
here  and  there,  and  the  Muirhead's  house  was  no  longer 
the  best  in  the  neighborhood.  The  clearings  showed 
their  garden  patches  thriftily  planted  with  Indian  corn, 
pumpkins,  potatoes,  and  other  vegetables.  The  rude 
farming  implements  had  increased  in  number,  and  tan 
vats  and  forges  were  to  be  seen  here  and  there.  Most  of 
the  little  farms  displayed  homely  comfort,  and  if  not  lux- 
ury, at  least  plenty.  Joseph  M' Clean  had  worked  early 
and  late,  and  although  not  one  of  the  earliest  comers, 
his  clearing  compared  favorably  with  the  others.  The 
outbuildings,  stout  and  weather-safe,  gave  shelter  for  the 


AT  THE   END   OF   THE   VISIT  179 

cattle  and  storage  for  the  crops.  In  the  woods  ran 
wild  the  herd  of  porkers  which,  feasting  on  acorns  and 
other  nuts,  were  easily  raised,  and  when  one  was  re- 
quired for  food,  it  was  despatched  by  a  shot  from  Joseph's 
rifle.  The  loom  and  spinning-wheel  were  ever  busy,  and 
now  would  be  busier  than  ever  turning  out  the  rolls  of 
linen  and  wool  which  would  be  required  for  Jeanie's 
wedding-chest.  Much  talk  there  was  over  it  all,  the 
homely  Scotch-Irish  phrases  cropping  out  ever  and  anon 
as  the  matter  was  discussed  by  the  women  of  the  settle- 
ment, who,  like  those  of  to-day,  were  all  agog  when  a 
wedding  was  in  prospect.  To  be  sure  the  wedding- 
clothes  did  not  demand  very  much  time  or  attention. 
Linsey-woolsey,  that  combination  of  linen  and  wool, 
furnished  the  material  for  one  or  two  petticoats.  "  Six 
hundred  "  linen,  made  from  home-grown  flax,  was  suffi- 
ciently good  for  a  few  bedgowns  or  sacques  to  be  worn 
with  the  petticoats,  and  the  same  linen  cut  into  squares 
and  hemmed  made  the  neckerchiefs.  For  winter  wear 
there  was  the  fur  jacket  of  squirrel  skin,  and  as  styles 
did  not  alter,  there  was  not  much  difficulty  in  fashion- 
ing the  garments  necessary.  Yet  with  the  flax  hackling, 
the  spinning,  and  weaving  there  was  quite  enough  to 
be  done,  and  Agnes  was  glad  to  lend  a  hand. 

"  If  this  is  what  calls  you  in,"  she  said,  as  Jeanie  led 
the  way  to  the  loom,  "  I'm  glad  to  bear  my  part.  How 
comfortable  you  have  everything  here,  Jeanie."  She 
looked  around  admiringly  at  the  neat  room,  which 


1 80  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

showed  traces  of  the  care  of  both  the  master  and  mis- 
tress of  the  establishment. 

"Yes,  we  have  everything  most  convenient,"  said 
Jeanie,  "and  it's  main  due  to  Archie.  We  do  miss 
Archie  and  his  handy  ways." 

"  Will  he  no  be  coming  to  the  wedding  ? " 

"  Not  he.  It  is  too  far  and  it  takes  too  long.  My 
mother  would  have  me  wait  till  Archie  could  tie  the 
knot,  but  David  is  persistent.  David  doesn't  talk  much, 
but  when  he  wants  to  make  a  point,  somehow  one  must 
give  in  to  him." 

"  It's  to  be  hoped,  then,  for  your  sake,  that  his  points 
will  be  such  as  you  can  approve,"  laughed  Agnes. 

"Ah,  but  they  will  be,"  returned  Jeanie,  with  the 
blissful  assurance  of  one  in  love. 

"  Shall  I  take  the  loom  or  the  wheel?"  asked  Agnes. 

"  Oh,  the  wheel,"  returned  Jeanie,  adjusting  the 
heavy  clacking  machine  before  which  she  stood.  And 
soon  the  buzz  of  the  wheel  and  the  clatter  of  the  loom 
drowned  their  attempts  at  conversation  except  when 
Jeanie  stopped  to  tie  a  thread  or  Agnes  replenished  her 
wool.  They  could,  however,  entertain  themselves  in 
another  way,  and  presently  Agnes  started  up  one  of 
the  old  psalms  and  Jeanie  joined  in. 

Very  sweet  did  the  girlish  voices  sound  to  the  accom- 
paniment of  the  whirring  wheel  and  the  shuffling  loom, 
and  David  thought  so  as  he  paused  outside  to  listen. 
Jeanie,  tall  and  straight,  her  dark  eyes  aglow,  flung  out 


VERY  SWEETLY  DID  THE  GIRLISH   VOICES  SOUND. 


AT  THE   END   OF   THE   VISIT  181 

her  song  with  spirit  as  she  sent  her  shuttle  back  and 
forth.  Agnes,  fair  and  graceful,  stepped  forward  and 
back,  and  sang  less  vehemently  but  with  more  sweet- 
ness. "  It's  a  pretty  picture,"  said  David  to  himself, 
"and  I  hate  to  disturb  it,  but  a  man  can't  keep  back 
good  news." 

As  his  figure  darkened  the  doorway  the  two  girls 
turned,  and  a  rosy  flush  mounted  to  Jeanie's  dark  cheek. 
She  stopped  her  work  and  stood  still,  but  Agnes  went 
on  faster.  "  It's  not  the  time  to  stop,"  she  said,  nod- 
ding merrily  to  David,  "  or  Jeanie's  chest  will  not  be  full 
against  the  wedding." 

"  But  ye'll  be  thinking  that  what  I  have  to  tell  is 
more  important  than  Jeanie's  chest,"  he  replied,  "  though 
maybe  as  it's  to  Jeanie's  advantage  to  keep  you  at  it, 
I  had  better  keep  silence." 

"You'll  not  then,"  Agnes  returned,  pausing  so  sud- 
denly that  her  thread  broke  off  with  a  snap,  "  for  not 
another  turn  do  I  make  till  I  hear  what  you  have  to 
tell." 

David  gave  Jeanie  a  reassuring  nod.  "  You'll  not 
have  me  keep  it  from  her,  Jean,  when  ye  know  what 
it  is,"  he  said,  "though  it  maybe  will  defraud  your 
chest.  It's  just  this,  Nancy :  your  mother  and  her 
bairns  are  on  the  road  and  must  soon  be  here.  I  gal- 
loped on  when  I  learned  it." 

"  My  mother !  My  mother !  "  Agnes  clasped  her 
hands,  and  her  cry  went  up  like  a  shout  of  praise. 


1 82  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

Then  without  another  word  she  ran  from  the  house 
toward  the  road,  tears  of  sudden  joy  filling  her  eyes. 

"  She  made  quick  work  with  her  heels,"  said  David, 
looking  after  her  with  amazement.  Such  swiftness  of 
movement  was  beyond  him. 

"  How  does  she  know  which  way  to  go  ? "  said 
Jeanie. 

"  There's  but  the  one,  she  thinks,  and  that  toward  the 
village.  She'll  not  miss  them." 

"  And  did  you  see  them,  David  ?  " 

"I  did." 

"  Where  were  they  ?  " 

"They  had  just  come  into  the  village  on  Adam  Kin- 
sey's  broad." 

"  And  then  ?     Go  on,  David." 

"  Dod  Hunter  agreed  to  bring  'em  along  in  his  ox-cart. 
It's  slow  going,  and  Nancy  needn't  hurry." 

"  We  might  go  and  meet  them,  too.  There's  no  use 
trying  to  overtake  Nancy,  but  we  might  go  on  toward 
the  road  and  meet  them  before  they  get  here." 

"There's  no  use  going  so  soon,"  said  David,  "for 
they'll  not  be  getting  this  far  for  half  an  hour  yet. 
I'll  bide  here  with  you  awhile  Jean."  He  settled  him- 
self imperturbably.  "  I'll  not  interfere  with  your  work," 
he  went  on,  "  and  ye  can  give  me  a  word  once  in  a 
while,  lass.  I'd  as  soon  treat  me  eyes  to  a  look  of  ye 
as  me  ears  to  the  sound  of  your  voice,"  which  rather 
doubtful  compliment  Jeanie  was  not  disposed  to  take 


AT  THE   END   OF  THE  VISIT  183 

amiss,  knowing  that  David  wanted  nothing  better  than 
to  sit  and  look  at  her. 

Meanwhile  Agnes  had  run  tumultuously  along  the 
path  leading  to  the  river  road,  and  at  last,  out  of  breath, 
was  obliged  to  settle  down  to  a  walk.  Her  heart  was  all 
aflame  with  the  thought  of  seeing  her  mother,  and  once 
or  twice  she  fairly  sobbed  out  her  delight.  Reared 
though  she  had  been  among  the  self-contained  Scots, 
her  later  association  with  the  demonstrative  Polly  had 
encouraged  the  free  outlet  of  her  youthful  feelings. 
When  at  last  the  slow  ox-team  hove  in  sight,  she  again 
quickened  her  pace  and  went  flying  to  meet  it,  crying, 
"  Mother !  mother !  mother !  " 

The  deliberate  oxen  came  to  a  halt,  and  Dod  Hunter 
rested  his  goad  upon  the  ground  as  the  flying  figure 
approached. 

"  It's  my  lass!  I'll  be  getting  down.  It's  my  lass," 
said  Mrs.  Kennedy,  her  voice  all  of  a  tremble.  And  by 
the  time  Agnes  had  reached  the  team  her  mother  stood 
by  the  side  of  the  road.  Then  in  another  minute  the 
dear  arms  were  around  her,  and  she  heard,  in  a  broken 
whisper :  "  My  lass,  my  bairnie !  Praise  God  I  hold 
you  at  last!  It  has  been  a  weary  time,  a  weary  time." 

Then  came  shrill  little  voices  from  the  cart  and  the 
scrambling  of  feet  over  its  side,  and  Agnes  was  clasped 
on  one  side  by  Sandy  and  on  the  other  by  Jock  and 
Jessie.  "Ah,  Sandy,  I'd  know  your  blessed  freckled 
face  anywhere,"  the  girl  cried,  giving  him  a  frantic  hug. 


1 84  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  And  Jock,  my  lad,  how  you've  grown,  and  Jessie,  too. 
Bless  her  dear  blue  eyes ;  she's  shy  of  me,  poor  child, 
and  no  wonder  when  she  hasn't  seen  me  for  so  long. 
But  where  is  Margret  ?  " 

"There,  don't  you  see?  She's  holding  the  baby," 
Jock  informed  her. 

"  My  little  brother  Fergus,  and  I've  never  seen  him. 
Ah,  I  must  get  to  him  and  to  Margret.  She's  the  same 
faithful  bairnie  she  ever  was,"  and  Agnes  climbed  into 
the  cart  to  look  for  the  first  time  upon  the  solemn  little 
face  of  her  two-year-old  baby  brother. 

And  then  what  a  chatter  there  was !  Between  an- 
swering and  asking  questions  Agnes  hardly  paused, 
and  after  a  while  Dod  Hunter,  plodding  along  by  the 
side  of  his  oxen,  looked  back  with  a  sly  twinkle  in  his 
eye.  Agnes  laughed.  "  I  know  you  think  me  a  great 
chatterbox,  Uncle  Dod ;  but  I've  not  seen  them  for  two 
long  years,  and  my  heart  fairly  seems  ready  to  fly  out 
of  my  body,  and  as  that  doesn't  happen,  it  is  the  talk 
that  will  fly  out  of  my  mouth." 

"  I  wonder  ye've  the  breath  left,"  said  the  old  man, 
"if  ye  kept  up  the  pace  from  M'Clean's  that  ye  brought 
up  here  with." 

"  I  didn't  run  all  the  way,  but  when  I  got  out  of 
breath  I  had  to  walk.  Ah,  but  I  wanted  wings." 

"  Do  you  think  we've  changed  her,  marm  ? "  asked 
Dod  of  Mrs.  Kennedy. 

"  She  is  taller  and  not  so  serious." 


AT  THE   END   OF  THE   VISIT  185 

"  Who  could  be  serious  at  such  a  time  ?  "  laughed 
Agnes. 

"  And  she  has  a  way  with  her  that  is  new  to  me." 

"It's  maybe  offen  Polly  O'Neill  she  has  that,"  said 
Dod,  wagging  his  head. 

Agnes  flushed  up.  She  did  not  like  to  be  compared 
to  Polly,  much  as  she  loved  the  dear  creature,  and  it 
was  the  second  time  that  day  that  the  comparison  had 
been  made.  "  I'll  be  my  old  self  now  with  my  mother 
near  me,"  she  said  gravely.  "  I  have  run  wild,  I  know, 
and  Polly  has  not  checked  me.  Polly  has  not  your 
ways,  mother,  and  sometimes  I  have  been  forgetting; 
but  Polly  is  a  good  woman  and  has  been  like  a  sister 
to  me." 

"  Your  girl  is  a  good,  brave  lass,  and  you've  no  cause 
to  be  ashamed  of  her,"  Dod  declared. 

"  I  could  never  be  that,  I  well  know,"  Mrs.  Kennedy 
returned  quietly. 

Sometimes  walking  with  Jock  and  Sandy,  sometirries 
riding  with  Margret  cuddled  one  side  and  Jessie  the 
other,  the  baby  on  her  lap,  Agnes  made  the  journey 
back  to  the  M 'Cleans'  gate,  where  Mrs.  M 'Clean,  Jeanie, 
and  David  stood  waiting  for  the  party. 

"You'll  better  be  dropping  some  of  your  load  here," 
Mrs.  M'Clean  suggested. 

"  Oh,  no,  no."  Agnes  positively  refused  to  consider  this. 

"  But  where  will  you  stow  them  all  in  your  bit  of  a 
cabin  ?  " 


1 86  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  We'll  hang  them  up  on  pegs  rather  than  leave  one 
behind,"  Agnes  declared.  "We'll  manage  somehow." 

But  Mrs.  M 'Clean  shook  her  head  as  they  started 
off.  "  We've  a  deal  of  room,  now  Archie's  gone,"  she 
said,  "  and  where  they'll  stow  those  five  children,  not  to 
mention  Margaret  Kennedy  hersel',  I  don't  know." 
But  she  did  not  know  Polly  and  her  resources. 


CHAPTER   XII 

MOTHER 

POLLY'S  face  beamed  a  welcome  on  the  travellers. 
The  fact  that  the  little  cabin  contained  but  the 
living  room  and  the  lean-to  downstairs  and  the  two 
little  loft  chambers  above,  did  not  disturb  her  in  the 
least  when  the  matter  of  accommodating  five  extra 
persons  was  to  be  considered.  "  Let  me  see,"  she  said 
meditatively,  "  the  two  biggest  lads  can  sleep  in  one  o' 
the  loft  rooms,  and  Agnes  can  take  Margret  in  with  her ; 
then  the  other  two  little  ones  an*  my  youngest  can  have 
the  trundle-bed,  and  the  father  an'  mother  the  big  bed 
below,  an'  Jimmy  an'  mesel'  with  the  others  can  go  to 
the  barn." 

"  Turn  you  out !  I'd  like  to  see  us,"  said  Agnes.  "I 
can  take  both  my  sisters  in  with  me,  and  the  lads  can 
go  to  the  barn.  They're  well  off  to  have  no  worse 
place,  and  they'll  not  mind  it  in  the  least."  And  though 
Polly  protested  and  brought  Jimmy  into  the  discussion, 
it  was  at  last  managed  as  Agnes  had  suggested. 

A  new  light  came  into  Fergus  Kennedy's  eyes  as  he 
beheld  his  wife  and  children,  but  he  seemed  bewildered 
at  seeing  baby  Fergus,  and  poor  Mrs.  Kennedy  could 

187 


1 88  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

hardly  restrain  her  tears.  In  these  long  months  letters 
had  passed  but  seldom,  and  Agnes  had  written  cautiously 
of  her  father's  condition.  She  was  always  hoping  that 
he  would  be  quite  like  his  old  self,  or,  at  the  least,  very 
much  better  by  the  time  her  mother  came.  He  seemed 
quietly  content,  and  followed  his  wife  everywhere,  but 
there  was  no  enthusiasm  ;  and  to  the  weary  traveller, 
arrived  in  a  new  country,  happy  though  she  was  at  the 
reunion,  there  came  a  little  heart-sinking  as  the  night 
approached.  After  the  younger  children  were  sleeping 
sweetly  and  Fergus  had  gone  out  with  Jimmy  to  see  that 
all  was  safe  at  the  barn,  the  mother  sought  her  first-born, 
for  whom  her  heart  had  been  yearning  all  these  long 
months. 

Agnes  had  not  gone  to  bed,  but  she  had  seen  that  her 
little  sisters  were  comfortable,  and  then  she  had  crouched 
down  by  her  small  window,  and  sat  there  looking  out 
into  the  starry  heavens.  Outside  the  forest  girdled  the 
house,  while  beyond  one  could  catch,  here  and  there,  the 
gleam  of  the  river  through  the  trees.  All  was  silent 
except  for  the  cry  of  some  wild  bird  in  the  deep  woods,  or 
the  barking  of  a  fox  in  the  underbrush. 

Mrs.  Kennedy  drew  up  a  little  stool,  and  Agnes,  her 
arms  around  her  mother's  waist,  sat  on  the  floor  by  her 
side.  "  It  is  good,  so  good  to  have  you,  mother,"  said 
the  girl. 

Her  mother  stroked  the  soft  auburn  hair  and  drew 
her  daughter  closer,  but  she  said  nothing. 


MOTHER  189 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of,  mother  ?  Does  it  seem 
very  strange  to  you  here  ? "  Agnes  asked. 

"  I  am  thinking  of  how  lonely  my  little  lamb  must 
have  been  for  many  a  day  in  that  first  settlement  where 
wolves  attacked  her  and  where  Indians  threatened, 
and  how,  if  I  had  realized  it  all,  I  think  my  heart 
would  have  misgiven  me  when  it  came  time  to  have 
her  go." 

"It  was  lonely,"  Agnes  confessed,  "but  since  we 
came  here  it  has  been  less  so,  and  the  Indians  are  not 
so  troublesome  now  that  the  settlement  grows  and 
thrives,  and  only  those  who  stray  too  far  need  fear. 
You  are  not  afraid  of  them,  mother  ?  " 

"  No ;  yet,  when  I  saw  your  father  and  felt  what  it 
was  they  had  done  to  him,  a  horror  arose  within  me." 

"  Yes,  I  miss  father,"  returned  Agnes,  "  father  as  he 
was,  but  he  might  have  had  a  wound  as  bad  in  war,  and 
he  does  grow  a  little  better  —  he  really  does ;  he  was 
much  worse  at  first.  Oh,  mother,  I  am  glad  for  his 
sake  that  I  came  with  him,  for  they  might  never  have 
found  him  that  dreadful  day." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know,  and  I  am  thankful,  so  thankful 
that  I  have  both  my  brave  daughter  and  my  husband 
spared  to  me,  though  your  father  does  seem  so  strange. 
And  there  was  my  own  poor  father,  too,  a  victim  to  the 
savages." 

"Ah,  yes.  But,  mother,  you  have  not  heard.  Such 
a  wonderful  thing  I  must  tell  you.  There  was  a  will, 


IQO  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

after  all."  And  Agnes  told  her  the  whole  story,  her 
mother  listening  eagerly.  "  And  now,"  she  said,  as  she 
concluded,  "  Mr.  Willett  will  take  steps  to  see  that  we 
get  our  rights." 

"Thank  God!"  ejaculated  her  mother.  "Ah,  my 
dear  lass,  I  was  sore  hearted  to  know  what  we  would 
do,  for  the  space  here  is  main  small  for  all  of  us." 

"Yes,  but  it  is  coming  summer,  and  we  need  not 
mind.  Ah,  mother,  I  am  used  now  to  this  backwoods 
way  of  living,  and  you  will  be,  too,  soon.  I  am  afraid 
it  will  be  some  time  before  we  can  get  possession  of  the 
house,  for  Humphrey  Muirhead  will  stay  till  he  is  put 
out.  Did  you  know  about  him,  mother  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  slowly.  "  My  father  told  me 
the  last  time  that  I  saw  him  alive.  *  He's  no  credit  to 
us,  daughter,'  he  said,  '  and  will  likely  never  cross  your 
path.  I'd  have  more  for  you  but  for  him,  and  it's  but 
right  that  what  is  left  should  be  yours,  although  he  is 
the  eldest  and  bears  my  name.  I  have  made  my  will/ 
he  said  —  " 

"  Did  he  tell  you  that  ? " 

"  He  told  me  that." 

"  But  he  did  not  sign  it.  I  think  that  ruffian  uncle 
of  mine  must  have  known  about  it." 

"  If  he  did  not  sign  it,  of  course  it  was  of  no  value. 
Your  grandfather  had  a  housekeeper  after  my  mother's 
death ;  the  woman  was  a  half-breed,  but  quite  a  good 
creature.  I  don't  know  what  has  become  of  her.  The 


MOTHER  191 

house  is  a  good  one,  your  grandfather  said,  and  the 
farm  was  well  stocked." 

"  I'm  afraid,  from  all  accounts,  that  it  is  going  to  be 
hard  work  to  get  anything,  but  we  shall  see.  It  is  a 
good  thing  to  have  friends,  mother." 

"And  this  Mr.  Willett,  he  is  a  good  friend?  You 
remember  I  haven't  seen  him." 

"  He  is  a  good  friend,"  Agnes  answered  slowly,  "and 
so  are  the  M'Cleans.  You  saw  Archie  ?  " 

"Yes,  a  fine  lad."  She  laid  her  hand  gently  on 
Agnes's  head.  "  What  did  he  tell  me  but  that  my  little 
girl  would  have  the  chance  of  becoming  a  meenister's 
wife  ? " 

"  He  told  you  that  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"And  what  did  you  say  ? " 

"  I  said,  '  My  little  lass  is  far  too  young/  " 

"  Am  I  so  young  ?     Seventeen,  mother." 

"  So  you  are.  I  did  not  count  in  the  years  you  have 
been  away  from  me,  but  you  will  not  leave  me  now,  my 
lamb  ?  Not  yet  ?  " 

"Oh,  mother,  I  have  no  thought  of  such  a  thing. 
Archie  is  a  good  laddie  and  has  been  kinder  than  I  can 
tell  you,  but  I  do  not  think  of  him  in  that  way.  He 
will  be  away  long  enough  to  forget,  I  think." 

"  Not  forget,  boyish  though  his  love  may  be,  but  he 
may  learn  to  care  for  some  other  with  whom  he  may  be 
thrown.  Yet,  I  would  not  object  to  giving  my  little  girl 


IQ2  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

to  a  good  man,  and  I  might  like  the  honor  of  becoming 
mother-in-law  to  a  meenister." 

"You'll  be  no  one's  mother-in-law  yet  awhile." 
Agnes  gave  her  mother  a  fervent  hug.  "  I  shall  help 
you  to  raise  the  children,  and  you  know,  you  have  much 
to  learn  of  me,  for  I  am  a  pioneer  this  long  time,  while 
you  are  quite  new  to  it." 

"  Saucy  little  child,  to  talk  of  teaching  your  mother. 
This  Mr.  Willett,  when  shall  we  see  him  ?  I  have 
many  questions  to  ask  him." 

"  He  comes  quite  often." 

"  He  is  a  young  man  ? " 

"  Not  very ;  he  is  twenty-five." 

"  I  call  that  quite  young.  Agnes,  my  lamb,  is  that 
why  you  are  not  ready  to  be  a  meenister's  wife  ? " 

Agnes's  head  dropped  against  her  mother's  shoulder, 
and  she  did  not  answer  for  a  moment.  "  He  does  not 
think  of  me,"  she  said  after  a  moment,  and  in  hurried 
tones.  "I  —  I  —  Polly  says  he  has  a  sweetheart  in  Vir- 
ginia." 

"  But  you  think  of  him  ? "  The  mother  was  quick  to 
note  the  hesitation  and  the  evasion.  "Ah,  my  baby, 
has  it  come  to  you  then,  womanhood's  dream  ? "  she 
said  gently. 

"Nothing  has  come  to  me,"  Agnes  broke  out  pas- 
sionately. "  I  have  been  motherless  and  well-nigh 
fatherless,  and  tears  have  been  my  portion." 

"  My   lamb !     My    lamb ! "    the    mother    murmured 


MOTHER  193 

brokenly.  "You  are  no  longer  motherless,  nor  have 
ever  been  friendless ;  and,  ah,  my  bairn,  if  you  but  knew 
what  a  comfort  it  was  to  me  to  hear  from  Archie 
M'Clean  how  brave  and  strong  and  helpful  you  have 
been." 

"  I've  not  always  been  brave  and  strong,  and  I  grew 
wild  and  naughty  for  a  time  till  —  till  —  they  said  I  was 
like  Polly.  Have  I  grown  like  Polly,  mother  ? " 

"  Only  in  some  little  gestures  and  tricks  of  speech, 
yet  you  might  well  imitate  her  in  many  ways." 

"  So  I  say.  Dear  Polly,  she  has  been  so  good,  so 
good  to  me,  and  I  love  her  and  will  not  hear  anything 
against  her." 

"  You  are  right  to  be  loyal,  but  now,  my  lamb,  it  is 
late  and  you  are  tired." 

"And  how  tired  you  must  be,  too.  Go  to  bed, 
dearest  of  mothers.  I  shall  be  so  happy  to  know  you 
are  near  me." 

"  And  yet  a  moment  ago  you  were  not  happy,  even 
with  your  mother." 

"  I  was  very  naughty.     Please  forget  that  wild  talk." 

But  the  mother  did  not  forget,  and  she  looked  with 
critical  eyes  upon  Parker  Willett  when  he  appeared  a  few 
days  later.  She  saw  a  tall,  dignified  young  man,  slim, 
dark  eyed,  dark  haired,  with  resolute  chin  and  a  mouth 
whose  grave  lines  gave  rather  a  severity  to  the  face  ex- 
cept when  the  man  smiled,  and  then  one  noticed  both 
humor  and  sweetness. 


194  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

He  greeted  Mrs.  Kennedy  with  marked  courtesy ; 
here  was  a  woman  of  his  own  kind,  and  he  was  quick  to 
recognize  it.  He  was  also  quick  to  see  that  Agnes  had 
gained  in  her  own  manner  since  her  mother's  arrival, 
unconsciously  imitating  her  quiet  and  gentle  dignity, 
and  almost  the  first  words  he  said  to  Mrs.  Kennedy 
were,  "  It  is  well  for  your  daughter,  Mrs.  Kennedy, 
that  you  have  at  last  come ;  she  has  missed  you  sadly." 

"  And  has  needed  me  ?  "  Mrs.  Kennedy  smiled. 

"  Yes,  I  think  that,  too.  Every  girl  needs  a  wise, 
good  mother.  I  saw  —  "  he  turned  to  Agnes  —  "I 
saw  Humphrey  Muirhead  to-day." 

"Oh,  did  you  tell  him ?  " 

"  About  the  will  ?      Yes." 

"  And  what  did  he  say  ?  " 

Parker  smiled.  "  I  think  it  would  hardly  do  to  repeat 
his  very  uncomplimentary  remarks,  but  he  vows  you 
will  never  set  foot  on  the  place." 

"What  of  your  own  land  ? " 

"  I  have  bought  it." 

"  You  are  not  afraid  of  having  such  a  disagreeable 
neighbor?  " 

Parker  gave  a  little  amused  smile.  "  Whom  do  you 
mean,  you  or  your  mother  ?  " 

Agnes  smiled,  too.  "  So  you  do  count  on  our  being 
your  neighbors  in  spite  of  what  Hump  Muirhead 
says  ? " 

"  I  certainly  do." 


MOTHER  195 

"  But  you  must  not  take  any  risks  on  our  account," 
Mrs.  Kennedy  was  quick  to  say. 

"  But  he  saved  Honey's  life,"  Agnes  remarked. 

"  You  mean  Jimmy  O'Neill  saved  Honey." 

"  But  you  saved  both.  Doesn't  Hump  Muirhead 
know  that  ?  " 

"  What  a  disrespectful  way  to  speak  of  your  uncle," 
laughed  Parker.  "  What  will  your  mother  think  ? " 

"  That  I've  neither  wish  nor  right  to  show  him  the 
respect  he  does  not  command.  But  doesn't  he  know 
about  your  saving  Honey  ? "  she  persisted. 

"  No,  if  you  call  it  that." 

"  I  do.  Oh,  mother  —  "  she  checked  herself ;  she 
would  not  for  the  world  praise  him  for  his  bravery  lest 
one  or  the  other  should  suspect  how  pleased  she  was  to 
do  it.  "  Did  you  see  Honey,  the  dear  baby  ? "  she 
asked,  giving  a  turn  to  the  subject. 

"  No,  I  saw  only  the  man  himself ;  I  met  him  on  the 
road." 

"  Do  you  know,  I  have  a  baby  brother,  only  a  little 
younger  than  Honey,  and  I  had  never  seen  him  before 
mother  came." 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  some  one  to  fill  Honey's  place, 
and  some  one  from  whom  you  will  not  have  to  part. 
She  was  very  loath  to  give  up  her  little  cousin,"  he 
told  Mrs.  Kennedy. 

"  Agnes  always  was  a  great  hand  for  the  little  ones," 
Mrs.  Kennedy  replied. 


196  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  And  you  must  have  missed  her  sadly  when  she 
left  you  for  this  raw  country." 

"I  missed  her,  yes."  The  mother's  eyes  rested 
fondly  on  the  girl,  and  Parker's  followed  the  look.  He 
wondered  if  the  mother  noted  how  becoming  was  that 
soft  blue  and  how  the  plain  little  gown  brought  out  the 
color  of  the  girl's  eyes. 

"  What  did  you  say  about  the  will  ? "  Agnes  asked, 
eager  for  more  information. 

"  I  told  him  that  the  will  would  be  entered  for  pro- 
bate, and  that  your  mother  would  claim  her  own." 

"  What  did  he  say  to  that  ?  " 

"  He  insisted  that  he  must  see  the  will  and  that  he 
would  take  no  man's  word  for  it.  I  promised  him  that 
I  would  bring  it  with  me  for  his  satisfaction,  and  Jimmy 
has  intrusted  it  to  me.  It  will  be  all  right  in  time.  I 
shall  not  show  it  to  him  except  in  the  presence  of  wit- 
nesses. There  may  be  some  trouble  about  getting  pos- 
session, for  Muirhead,  on  account  of  his  long  residence 
out  here,  has  been  able  to  gather  about  him  rather 
a  lawless  set  of  followers,  and  they  may  try  to  do  some- 
thing to  prevent  peaceable  possession ;  but  in  the  end 
there  must  be  enough  of  your  friends  to  see  justice 
done.  You  have  not  come  to  a  very  law-abiding  neigh- 
borhood, so  far  as  these  backwoodsmen  are  concerned, 
Mrs.  Kennedy,  but  the  country  is  settling  up  very  fast, 
and  there  are  enough  men  of  good  standing  here  now 
who  will  not  allow  any  irregularities." 


MOTHER  197 

"  Every  one  is  very  kind ;  I  never  knew  such  hospi- 
tality. We  have  had  offers  of  help  from  near  and  far, 
and  a  score  of  homes  are  open  to  us.  In  time  I  know 
we  shall  be  very  happy  here,  though  at  first  one  nat- 
urally misses  some  things." 

"Yes,"  Parker  nodded  in  response.  "  One  misses  a 
great  many  things  ;  I  felt  so ;  but  it  is  a  great  country, 
after  all,  and  there  are  better  chances  here  than  at 
home ;  that  is  plain  to  be  seen  by  the  way  the  people 
are  flocking  from  the  east  and  south.  I  should  not 
be  surprised  if  we  would  soon  become  a  state." 

"  It  certainly  seems  as  if  a  lot  of  people  were  coming," 
Agnes  ventured  to  say.  "  I  hardly  ever  go  to  the 
M' Cleans'  but  I  hear  of  new  arrivals,  and  every  day  we 
see  the  broads  go  by  on  the  river.  Ah,  yes,  we  were 
wise  to  come,  mother." 

Her  mother  wondered  if  it  were  so,  as  she  saw  the 
light  that  had  gathered  in  her  girl's  eyes  since  this 
young  man  had  come  in.  He  was  a  gentleman,  surely, 
just  such  as  might  win  the  heart  of  a  trusting  little  lass, 
but  she  must  be  watchful  lest  the  child  should  come  to 
have  heartache. 

"  I  have  a  bit  of  a  cabin  started,  and  will  be  at  home 
very  shortly,"  the  young  man  told  them  in  answer  to 
their  questions,  "and  in  the  meantime  I  shall  stay 
at  Dod  Hunter's.  Jerry  and  the  other  boys  are 
helping  me,  and  I  shall  soon  be  having  my  own  fire- 
side." 


198  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  An'  you'll  be  invitin'  us  over  to  sup,"  said  Polly, 
who  had  joined  them. 

"  Yes,  if  you  will  cook  the  supper,  I'll  provide  any- 
thing you  say,  and  we  can  have  a  little  housewarming 
that  will  suit  the  size  of  the  house." 

"  Deed,  an'  I'll  cook  anny thing,  an'  we'll  show  Mrs. 
Kennedy  how  a  clearin'  looks  before  it's  cleared.  Will 
ye  be  takin'  yer  belongin's  this  trip  ?  " 

"  I  may  as  well;  I've  not  much  of  a  bundle,  but  I've 
trespassed  upon  your  space  long  enough."  ^ 

"  Run  get  the  little  box  up  aloft,  Agnes,"  said  Polly. 
"  I've  kept  that  by  itsel'  knowin'  ye  valued  it,  an'  the 
rest,  a  little  fardle  o'  things,  I've  in  the  lean-to." 

"  No,  don't  trouble  yourself,  Agnes,"  Parker  hastened 
to  say,  but  she  was  already  halfway  up  the  ladder.  It 
was  pleasant  to  be  able  to  do  him  even  this  slight 
service. 

The  little  box  was  where  Polly  had  put  it,  high  on 
a  shelf ;  it  was  a  small,  flat  affair,  neatly  made  of  two 
or  three  different  kinds  of  wood.  It  lay  under  Polly's 
Bible,  and,  as  Agnes  stood  on  tiptoe  to  reach  it,  she 
knocked  down  both  box  and  Bible,  and,  in  trying  to 
save  the  latter,  the  box  fell  on  the  floor.  It  was  strong, 
and  was  not  injured;  but  in  the  fall  a  spring  struck  the 
floor,  and  a  sliding  panel  flew  out;  then  two  or  three 
bits  of  paper  fell  from  their  hiding-place.  Agnes  picked 
them  up  one  by  one,  —  two  or  three  letters  and  a  carefully 
made  pencil-sketch  of  a  girl's  head.  Beneath  it  was 


MOTHER  199 

written  "  Alicia."  Agnes  felt  the  blood  surging  to  her 
face  as  she  stood  with  trembling  fingers  holding  the 
picture.  It  was  then  as  Polly  had  surmised.  "  For  I 
know  it  is  not  his  sister,"  she  whispered ;  "  he  told  me 
her  name,  and  it  is  Elizabeth.  I  could  not  forget  that." 
She  noted  the  haughty,  high-bred  air  about  the  pose  of 
the  head,  the  curve  of  the  perfect  lips,  the  pile  of  hair 
carefully  arranged,  the  filmy  lace  kerchief.  She  slipped 
the  papers  and  portrait  back  into  their  place  and  hurried 
downstairs,  but  she  was  very  pale  as  she  handed  the 
DOX  to  Parker.  "  I  dropped  it,"  she  said  truthfully, 
"but  I  hope  nothing  is  hurt" 

"  I  am  sure  everything  is  quite  safe,"  he  assured  her. 
"  It  is  not  a  very  large,  strong  box,  but  it  holds  most  of 
my  dearest  possessions."  He  opened  the  lid  and  drew 
forth  three  miniatures.  "See,"  he  said,  "these  are  my 
treasures.  This  is  my  mother ;  "  —  he  showed  it  to  Mrs. 
Kennedy;  "this  my  sister  Elizabeth,  whom  we  call 
Betty,"  and  he  handed  Agnes  the  second  case,  "  this 
my  father,"  and  into  Polly's  hands  he  gave  the 
third.  "There  are,  too,  some  of  my  father's  last 
letters,  and  one  or  two  other  little  things  which  I 
prize." 

"  You  look  like  your  father,"  Polly  said,  scrutinizing 
the  miniature  she  held. 

"  He  died  when  I  was  ten  years  old,  so  I  remember 
him  perfectly.  My  mother  married  a  second  time,"  he 
informed  Mrs.  Kennedy. 


200  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  Therefore,  unless  your  stepfather  is  a  very  unusual 
man,  you  must  miss  your  own  father  very  much." 

"  I  did,  and  because  of  this  second  marriage  I  left 
home  after  my  sister  was  married." 

Agnes  was  gazing  at  Betty's  pictured  face ;  it  was 
bright,  piquant,  very  fair,  very  young.  She  handed  it 
back  without  a  word,  and  her  heart  was  troubled,  for 
her  thoughts  were  with  that  hidden  portrait. 

She  was  very  quiet  the  rest  of  the  day,  but  toward 
evening  she  climbed  the  hill  and  stood  looking  off 
across  the  river.  Presently  Parker  would  come  that 
way,  for  he  used  a  little  skiff  more  frequently ;  it  saved 
him  the  long  ride  to  the  ford  farther  above,  and  when 
the  river  was  not  high,  it  was  a  pleasanter  method  of 
travel.  After  a  little  waiting  she  saw  him  coming. 
How  straight  he  was,  and  tall !  She  shook  her  head 
impatiently  and  looked  away.  In  another  moment  he 
was  at  her  side.  "  Come,  go  out  on  the  river  with  me  for 
a  little  while,"  he  said  as  he  came  up.  "  The  days  are 
getting  so  much  longer  that  it  will  be  light  for  a  great 
while  yet,  and  this  evening  is  the  warmest  we  have 
had."  * 

Agnes  hesitated.     "  I  must  tell  mother/' 

"  I  asked  her,  and  she  consented  to  my  taking  you, 
so  long  as  I  did  not  keep  you  out  too  late." 

He  held  open  the  little  gate  for  her  to  pass  out,  and 
they  followed  the  zigzag  path  down  to  the  river's  brim. 
A  little  skiff  was  drawn  up  on  the  sands ;  they  stepped 


MOTHER  201 

into  it,  and  Parker  took  the  oars.  "  How  silent  you  are 
to-day,"  he  said  after  a  while.  "  Has  your  mother's 
coming  made  you  so  ? " 

"  No,  not  that.  I  —  I  —  have  something  to  tell  you. 
I  didn't  want  to  before  every  one."  She  paused  a 
minute  and  then  went  on.  "When  I  let  the  box  fall, 
something  fell  out  from  the  back  of  it,  some  letters  and 
—  and  —  a  picture.  I  picked  them  up  and  put  them 
back  again,  but  I  wanted  to  tell  you  that  I  couldn't 
help  seeing  the  picture." 

The  man  looked  at  her  with  an  inscrutable  smile. 
He  rested  his  oars,  and  drew  from  his  hunting-shirt  the 
flat  box.  Pressing  the  spring  he  slid  back  the  panel 
and  drew  forth  the  picture  and  letters;  the  last  he 
tore  into  bits  and  tossed  out  upon  the  waves ;  the 
picture  he  looked  at  with  a  little  scornful  smile,  and 
then  that,  too,  he  tore  across  and  tossed  overboard. 
Then  he  gave  a  deep  sigh,  picked  up  his  oars,  and 
pulled  steadily.  Agnes  watched  him  wonderingly,  but 
she  said  not  a  word. 

"Honest  little  girl,"  he  spoke  at  last,  "it  was  like 
you  to  tell  me  that,  and  now  it  will  be  my  turn  to  con- 
fess. I  have  told  you  of  our  old  plantation  life,  of  the 
father  whom  I  so  well  remember,  of  my  little  sister,  of 
my  mother  whose  marriage  robbed  us  of  all  our  heri- 
tage, but  I  have  not  told  you  of  Alicia,  my  neighbor 
and  playmate.  From  the  time  I  was  a  small  chap,  I 
always  said  I  would  marry  Alicia,  then  when  I  grew 


202  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

big  enough  to  go  away  to  school  and  Alicia,  too,  was 
sent  to  boarding-school,  when  I  thought  of  what  va- 
cations would  bring  me,  I  thought  of  Alicia.  Her  father 
and  mine  fought  side  by  side  in  the  Revolution,  and 
their  interests  were  the  same.  Then  my  father  died, 
and  after  a  while  my  mother  married  again.  When 
I  was  twenty-one,  I  found  that  in  lieu  of  falling  heir 
to  a  good  estate  I  was  practically  penniless.  My  first 
thought  was  to  take  advice  from  Alicia's  father,  and  his 
advice  I  followed.  I  came  west  to  carve  out  my  for- 
tune." He  stopped  a  moment  and  then  went  on.  "  Yet 
Alicia's  father,  to  this  day,  does  not  know  that  I  fol- 
lowed his  advice  because  I  could  not  hope  to  win 
his  daughter.  Agnes,  little  brave  girl,  you  would  not 
turn  a  man,  your  lifelong  companion,  away  from  you 
because  he  was  poor,  would  you  ? " 

"I?  No,  oh,  no;  not  if  I  loved  him,  and  if  I  knew 
him  to  be  good  and  true." 

The  man  pulled  up-stream  steadily  for  some  time 
before  he  spoke  again.  His  thoughts  were  far  away. 
He  saw  the  fine  old  plantation,  Alicia's  home,  its  host 
of  slaves,  its  wide  veranda  where  dainty  ladies  sipped 
their  tea,  its  lordly  dining  hall  upon  the  table  of  which 
glittered  old  silver  and  cut  glass.  He  saw  Alicia 
herself,  stately,  fastidious,  luxuriously  clad,  and  he 
looked  opposite  him  at  the  little  pioneer  lass,  bare- 
footed, bare-headed,  her  linsey-woolsey  petticoat  the 
worse  for  wear,  her  kerchief  of  coarse  linen  knotted  at 


MOTHER  203 

the  throat,  her  hands  sunburnt,  but  in  her  eyes  the  light 
of  truth  and  innocence,  and  he  smiled  a  sudden  bright 
and  tender  smile.  "And  so,  Alicia,  I  am  done  with 
you,"  he  said  aloud.  "  Forever  and  aye  I  am  done  with 
you.  Float  down  the  stream  of  time  in  another  current 
than  mine.  I  wish  you  no  ill,  but  for  me  I  care  no  more 
for  exotics.  Now,  Agnes,  you  know  my  story,  and  you 
are  sole  witness  of  how  Alicia  and  I  have  at  last  parted 
company.  I  tell  you,  Agnes,  her  mother  is  no  more 
gracious  lady  than  yours ;  but  if  ill-fortune  befell  her, 
would  she  throw  back  her  head,  as  I  have  seen  some  one 
do,  and  go  forth  to  meet  fate  face  to  face,  saying,  do 
your  worst,  I  will  defy  you  ?  She  couldn't  do  it,  Agnes, 
and  even  if  she  could — well,  by  this  time  the  water  has 
washed  her  image  quite  away.  So  there's  an  end  of  it, 
Agnes  Kennedy,  and  for  the  rest  of  time  I  am  Parker 
Willett,  pioneer,  and  not  Parker  Willett,  gentleman. 
Now,  Agnes,  I  will  take  you  home  to  your  mother. 
This  is  good-by  for  a  time,  too." 

The  color  had  come  back  to  Agnes's  cheeks  and  the 
light  to  her  eyes.  "  Thank  you  for  telling  me  that,"  she 
said,  as  the  boat's  landing  was  made.  "No,  don't  come 
back  with  me ;  it  is  early  still,  the  sky  is  quite  light,  but 
you  have  to  go  across,  and  you  will  have  quite  a  dis- 
tance to  ride  before  you  reach  Dod  Hunter's." 

"  I  feel  singularly  free  and  happy,"  said  Parker,  hold- 
ing her  hands.  "  It  is  a  good  thing  sometimes  to  throw 
one's  troubles  overboard.  But  for  you,  Agnes  Kennedy, 


204  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

I  should  not  have  done  it.  I've  not  exactly  burnt  my 
ships  behind  me,  but  I've  thrown  care  to  the  winds,  and 
I  mean  to  be  as  happy  as  you  will  let  me." 

"As  I  will  let  you?"  Agnes's  blue  eyes  opened 
wide. 

"  As  you  will  let  me ;  I  repeat  it.  Good  night,  good 
night,  little  girl.  Run  home  quickly.  I  shall  stand 
here  and  wait  till  I  know  you  must  be  safe." 

Agnes  ran  up  the  steep  path,  and  having  gained  the 
top  of  the  hill  she  looked  back.  He  was  still  there. 
He  waved  his  hand  to  her,  and  then  she  disappeared 
over  the  brow  of  the  hill. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

PLOTTING 

IT  was  two  days  after  that  Dod  Hunter  appeared  at 
the  clearing.  Agnes  was  busy  outside  the  house 
at  the  hominy  block;  it  took  a  deal  of  hominy  these 
days  to  satisfy  so  large  a  family. 

"  Park  Willett  here?  "  asked  Dod,  abruptly. 

"  No,  he  is  not."  Agnes  paused  in  her  work  and 
came  forward. 

"  Humph !  "  ejaculated  Uncle  Dod.  He  looked  at 
her  sharply  and  appeared  to  be  considering  something. 

"  Isn't  he  at  your  house  ?  "  Agnes  asked  anxiously. 

Dod  shook  his  head. 

"  He  left  here  on  Tuesday,"  Agnes  went  on.  "  Tues- 
day evening  just  before  dark.  I  saw  him  get  into  his 
boat  about  sundown  ;  he  was  going  to  your  house  from 
the  other  side.  Did  you  come  around  that  way  ? " 

"  No,  I  come  by  the  ford." 

"  It  is  very  strange,  for  he  told  me  he  would  be  stay- 
ing at  your  house  till  his  own  was  ready  for  him." 

Dod  moved  uneasily  in  his  saddle,  then  he  slipped 
down  and  led  the  horse  away  some  distance.  "  Come 

205 


206  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

here,  Nance,"  he  said,  "  I've  got  to  look  into  this.  You 
ain't  the  fain  tin'  kind,  I  know,  but  there's  something 
wrong,  I'm  satisfied.  Now,  don't  look  so  skeered;  I 
reckon  we'll  get  at  the  bottom  of  it.  Is  there  anybody 
about  here  that  'ud  be  likely  to  be  an  inimy  o'  hisn  ? " 

Agnes  shook  her  head.  "  No  one  that  I  know  of. 
He  never  seemed  to  have  any  very  intimate  friends,  but 
he  is  always  pleasant  to  everybody,  and  I  think  nearly 
every  one  has  a  good  word  for  him." 

Dod  wagged  his  head  again.  "  Nobody  want  to  rob 
him  o'  any  thin'  ? " 

Agnes  paused  before  she  answered.  She  thought 
first  of  the  miniatures,  but  who  would  want  such  purely 
personal  things  ?  Then  like  a  flash  came  a  thought  of 
the  will.  Parker  carried  that.  Humphrey  Muirhead 
knew  it  would  be  in  his  possession.  "  There  is  some- 
thing," she  said  breathlessly ;  "  it  is  the  will,  Uncle  Dod, 
my  grandfather  Muirhead's  will.  Mr.  Willett  has  that 
and  Hump  Muirhead  knows  it." 

Uncle  Dod  made  an  exclamation  and  said  something 
under  his  breath.  "  You've  hit  it,  girl.  Trust  a 
woman's  wits.  I'm  glad  I  tackled  you  first.  You've 
hit  the  nail  on  the  head.  I'll  bet  my  shirt  he's  up  to 
some  sort  of  scheme  to  get  that  will.  I  remember  he 
told  me  about  it.  That's  good,  «too,  fur  I  can  testify 
to  that.  Oh,  we'll  outwit  Hump  Muirhead,  don't  you 
fear." 

"  What  do  you  suppose  he  has  done  ?  " 


PLOTTING  207 

"  Kidnapped  him,  likely."  He  brought  his  fist  down 
with  a  thump  into  the  palm  of  his  hand.  "  I'm  an  ijit ! 
Why  didn't  I  think  of  that  before  ?  " 

"What?" 

"  I  heerd  a  pack  o'  horses  go  by  in  the  middle  o'  the 
night.  They  turned  into  Muirhead's  woods.  I  heerd 
some  one  say,  '  Keep  quiet,  boys,  can't  ye  ? '  I'll  bet  it 
was  them." 

"  Where  do  you  suppose  they  have  taken  him  ?  Will 
they  hurt  him?" 

"  Reckon  not.  They're  after  the  will.  I  rayther 
think  Hump'll  take  him  to  his  place  and  hide  him  some- 
wheres,  drug  him  maybe,  and  get  holt  o'  the  will,  then 
he'll  brazen  it  out  that  there  wa'n't  none,  an'  never  had 
been." 

"  But  we've  all  seen  it." 

"  Don't  make  no  difference ;  he'll  say  that  it's  a 
scheme  to  defraud  him,  an'  he'll  bring  a  lawsuit,  an* 
ef  they  ain't  no  proof,  likely  he  hopes  to  win  it.  It's 
jest  like  his  contrivin'.  Oh,  I  know  Hump  Muirhead 
from  A  to  izard.  But  we'll  get  a  holt  o'  him.  I  will 
count  on  my  boys.  Jimmy  O'Neill  at  home  ? " 

"  No,  he's  gone  to  the  village." 

"  Lemme  see,  then.  Your  father  don't  count.  Who's 
nearest  ? " 

"  David  Campbell ;  but  he  was  going  away  to-day." 

"I'd  like  to  scare  up  somebody  like  Jimmy,  but  with 
my  three  boys  an'  any  one  else  I  may  chanst  to  git  a 


208  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

holt  of,  I  reckon  we'll  down  'em.  I  don't  reckon  they 
was  more'n  half  a  dozen  in  the  pack.  I  kin  count 
Hump  Muirhead's  gang  on  one  hand.  Well,  Nancy, 
I'll  be  off,  the  sooner  the  better.  S'posin'  you  don't 
say  anything  about  this  to  yer  mother.  She's  new  here 
an'  don't  know  the  didos  these  here  backwoodsmen  kin 
cut  up ;  besides  it's  part  her  affair,  an'  Hump  bein'  kin 
o'  hern,  it  might  make  her  feel  bad.  Kin  ye  keep  yer 
mouth  shet?" 

"  I  should  hope  so,"  Agnes  returned  proudly. 

"  Tears  to  me  land's  plenty  enough  not  to  be  making 
such  a  hot  fuss  about  that  place  o'  Muirhead's.  Why 
don't  he  give  it  up  peaceable  ?  Big,  heavy  man  like 
him  could  easy  start  an'  clar  up  another  place  in  no 
time.  I  believe  in  fightin*  fur  my  rights,  but  I'll  be 
switched  if  I  believe  in  bullyin'  wimmin  folks.  I  (}e- 
clar,  gal,  ye  look  whiter'n  my  old  hoss.  I've  skeered 
ye  good,  hevn't  I  ? " 

"I'm  not  scared,  except  —  except  for  Mr.  Willett. 
I  feel  as  if  that  Muirhead  wouldn't  stop  at  anything." 

"  Blest  if  she  ain't  right,"  said  Dod  to  himself,  but 
he  put  on  a  cheerful  face  and  said,  "  Don't  ye  cross  no 
bridges  till  ye  come  to  'em.  I'm  off  now,  and  I'd  be 
willin'  to  bet  ye  a  pretty  that  Park  '11  be  settin'  in  my 
house  inside  o'  twenty-four  hours.  Keep  yer  mouth 
shet,  remember."  And  he  rode  off. 

Agnes,  with  palpitating  heart,  stood  for  a  moment 
powerless.  Then  she  rushed  to  the  house.  "  Mother," 


PLOTTING  209 

she  said,  trying  to  speak  calmly,  "  do  you  mind  if  I  go 
across  the  river  to  Hunter's  for  a  while  ? " 

"  So  soon  ready  to  leave  your  mother  ?  "  replied  Mrs. 
Kennedy.  "  Ah,  but  youth  does  love  change." 

"  It  isn't  that  I  love  change,  but  there  is  —  it  may  be 
that  I  am  needed  there." 

"Anybody  sick  at  Hunter's?"  asked  Polly,  putting 
down  the  huge  horn  spoon  she  held.  "  Didn't  I  see 
Uncle  Dod  come  in  just  now?" 

"Yes,  he  was  here,  and  some  one  is  —  perhaps — ," 
faltered  Agnes.  "  It  really  seemed  important  that  I 
should  go  and  see  what  is  the  matter."  She  gained 
courage  as  she  went  on. 

"  Oh,  well,  if  it  is  a  case  of  sickness,  of  course  go," 
her  mother  returned,  "but  I  really  think  Polly  or  I 
would  be  of  more  use." 

"But  I  might  have  to  stay,  and  can  be  spared  better 
than  either  of  you." 

"  That  is  true.  But  you  will  not  go  alone  ?  Is  Mr. 
Hunter  waiting  for  you  ?  " 

"Nothin's  goin'  to  hurt  her,"  said  Polly.  "She's 
used  to  runnin'  wild,  ain't  ye,  Nancy  ?  She  knows  this 
country  like  a  book,  an*  it's  no  distance  to  Dod's  once 
ye  cross  the  river,  though  it's  a  good  bit  furder  if  ye  go 
around." 

Agnes  had  not  waited  to  hear  the  last  wtords.  She  was 
conscious  that  she  had  misled  her  mother,  and  that  it 
would  grieve  her  who  always  set  a  value  upon  the  exact 


210  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

truth.  "  But  I  must  go,  I  must,"  she  murmured  to  her- 
self. "  I  didn't  think  to  tell  Uncle  Dod,  and  I  think  I 
could  maybe  tell  the  tale  better  than  any  one  else,  I  who 
saw  it  all." 

She  ran  toward  the  hilltop,  then  down  on  the  other 
side  to  the  river's  bank.  Here  she  had  last  seen  Parker 
standing.  "  Ah  me,  if  he  be  but  safe,"  she  whispered. 
"  Oh,  my  dear,  my  dear,  if  we  can  but  save  you.  '  I 
will  be  as  happy  as  you  will  let  me,'  he  said,  and  I  was 
so  glad,  so  glad."  She  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  the 
little  skiff  always  drawn  high  up  into  the  bushes ;  drag- 
ging it  down  she  soon  had  it  afloat,  and  plied  her  oars 
with  all  haste.  More  than  once  had  she  rowed  across, 
and  her  strong  young  arms  found  it  an  easy  task.  Once 
on  the  other  side  she  made  no  tarrying,  but  struck  off 
into  the  bridle-path,  and  was  soon  at  Dod  Hunter's  gate. 
There  were  four  men  standing  in  the  yard ;  a  fifth  was 
just  coming  from  the  house. 

"Nancy  Kennedy!  I'll  be  switched  if  it  ain't  the 
gal,"  said  Dod,  as  Agnes  appeared  upon  the  scene. 
"  What's  up  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  Muirhead's  with  you."  One  of  the 
men  turned  and  looked  at  her.  Agnes  recognized  him. 
He  was  Dr.  Flint,  a  friend  of  Parker  Willett's,  and  she 
remembered  his  history.  A  man  well  born,  well  edu- 
cated, but  one  who  had  been  wild  and  dissipated,  and 
who  had  drifted  west  where  he  led  a  reckless,  irregular 
life,  sometimes  practising  medicine,  sometimes  living  for 


PLOTTING  211 

months  among  the  backwoodsmen.  Finally  he  made 
the  fatal  error  of  giving  a  wrong  medicine  to  a  man  who 
was  not  on  very  friendly  terms  with  him.  When  the 
man  died,  though  Dr.  Flint's  friends  knew  that  he  was 
dazed  with  drink  when  he  made  the  mistake,  an  angry 
crowd  of  the  dead  man's  companions  charged  him  with 
doing  it  purposely.  Dod  Hunter,  Parker  Willett,  and 
one  other  kept  the  crowd  at  bay  till  they  had  convinced 
them  of  their  injustice,  and  had  swung  their  sympathies 
around  toward  Dr.  Flint.  After  this  he  would  never 
prescribe  for  any  one.  He  did  not  object  to  practising 
surgery,  and  he  had  kept  perfectly  sober  for  several 
years.  Dod  Hunter  and  Parker  Willett  could  claim  any 
service  from  him,  as  well  they  might,  since  he  owed  his 
life  to  them.  Agnes  remembered  all  this  sad  story,  and 
was  glad  to  see  the  man  there.  She  knew  his  devotion 
to  Parker,  and  knew  that  nothing  would  stand  in  the 
way  of  his  defence  of  him. 

As  the  doctor  eyed  her  sharply  Dod  Hunter  gave 
him  a  nod.  "  Friend  o'  Park's,"  he  said.  "  Good  little 
gal.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  Park  was  sweet  on  he*r." 
Then  to  Agnes  who  had  not  heard  the  aside,  "  So,  lass, 
yer  ready  to  jine  the  s'arch  party,  are  ye  ? " 

"  I  am  going  to  Muirhead's." 

"What  for?" 

"  To  see  Humphrey  Muirhead  and  tell  him  who  saved 
his  little  boy.  If  I  can't  see  Hump,  I  will  see  his  wife 
and  tell  her  and  make  her  promise  to  tell  her  husband." 


212  A   GENTLE  PIONEER 

Dod  nodded  approval.  "  Good  scheme,  but  maybe 
it  won't  work,  and  we  ain't  no  full  proof  that  he's  got 
Park." 

"It  will  do  no  harm  if  he  hasn't." 

"  That's  true,  too.  Come  along,  then,  if  you  want  to 
go  with  us.  We're  not  likely  to  have  a  pitch  battle 
before  we  git  there,  and  a  gal  that  has  fit  Injuns  ain't 
goin'  to  squeal  at  sight  of  a  gun.  Will  ye  hoof  it  or 
shall  I  git  ye  a  hoss?" 

"  I'll  go  as  you  do.  I  should  think  you  would  know 
that,"  Agnes  replied  with  some  asperity.  "  It's  not 
the  first  search-party  I've  gone  with,  Uncle  Dod.  You 
know  I  was  with  them  when  they  found  my  father." 

"  Sure  enough.  I  mind  their  tellin'  me  of  it  at 
M'Clean's.  Start  on,  boys."  The  rescuing  party  set 
forth,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  a  human  being  to  be  seen 
in  any  of  the  haunts  to  which  the  Hunters  led  them. 

"  I  shall  go  to  the  house,"  Agnes  declared  her  inten- 
tion, "  and  you  may  come  with  me  or  I  will  go  alone, 
whichever  Uncle  Dod  thinks  best." 

The  men  debated  the  proposition.  "  I  don't  know  as 
it  would  be  well  to  let  Muirhead  know  we  have  wind 
of  the  thing,"  said  Dod  Hunter,  "but  I  have  my  doubts 
about  it's  bein'  the  right  thing  for  us  to  let  a  gal  go  up 
there  alone." 

"  I'm  not  afraid,  if  that  is  all,"  Agnes  said. 

"It  ain't  whether  you're  afraid,"  said  Jerry,  "but  I 
reckon  four  good-sized  men  ain't  a-goin'  to  see  a  gal  do 


PLOTTING  213 

what  they  hev  a  right  to.  I  say  we  all  go."  And  his 
proposition  was  acted  upon. 

Meek  little  Mrs.  Muirhead  came  out  to  meet  them, 
and  with  a  frightened  air  replied  to  the  questions  put  to 
her.  No,  Hump  wasn't  at  home ;  he  had  gone  off  the 
night  before,  hunting,  he  said ;  had  come  back  to  break- 
fast, and  then  had  ridden  in  the  direction  of  Mayo's. 

"  Was  he  alorm  ?  "  asked  the  doctor. 

"When  he  went  to  Mayo's  ?     Yes." 

"  No,  I  mean  when  he  came  in  this  morning," 

Mrs.  Muirhead  twisted  her  fingers  nervously  and 
looked  furtively  toward  the  house.  "  No,  he  wasn't," 
she  informed  them  in  a  low  tone.  "There  was  half 
a  dozen  men  with  him.  They  were  in  the  house  for 
a  while."  She  saw  them  coming,  but  they  went  in  the 
front  way,  and  Hump  had  told  her  to  keep  away,  that 
if  she  dared  to  disturb  them  or  go  into  that  room  where 
they  were,  she'd  never  go  in  there  again.  He  didn't 
mean  that,  of  course;  he  often  talked  so,  but  she  thought 
she'd  better  keep  out  of  any  fuss.  They  went  away 
later ;  she  heard,  but  did  not  see  them,  and  after  Hump 
had  his  breakfast  he  went,  too,  but  the  door  was  bolted 
and  locked. 

"  When  will  he  be  back  ?  Did  he  say  ? "  questioned 
Agnes. 

"Oh,  soon." 

"We  will  wait,  then." 

Mrs.  Muirhead  nervously  asked   them  to  come  into 


214  A   GENTLE    PIONEER 

the  kitchen,  an  invitation  which  Agnes  and  the  doctor 
accepted.  "We'll  keep  watch  outside,"  said  Dod 
Hunter,  in  an  undertone. 

Agnes  responded  by  a  nod.  The  girl  looked  pale  and 
tired  from  her  long  tramp  and  from  the  strain  put  upon 
her,  and  she  gratefully  accepted  the  drink  of  milk  which 
Mrs.  Muirhead  timidly  proffered  her  guests.  The  three 
or  four  little  children  stood  around  open-eyed.  Honey, 
with  a  cry  of  joy,  had  run  to  Agnes,  and  she  took  com- 
fort in  sitting  with  the  child  cuddled  up  to  her. 

"That's  his  daddy's  favorite,"  Mrs.  Muirhead  in- 
formed them.  "  He  sets  great  store  by  Honey,  and 
went  on  like  a  wild  creetur  when  he  thought  he  was 
drownded.  I'm  sure  we  all  never  expected  to  see  him 
again,  and  I'm  in  hopes  some  day  I  kin  git  over  to  Mis' 
O'Neill's  and  tell  her  how  thankful  I  am  to  him  and 
her  for  taking  care  of  him." 

Agnes  was  too  perturbed  to  talk  much.  She  listened 
for  the  least  sound.  Every  stir  of  a  leaf  seemed  to  her 
tense  nerves  to  indicate  the  approach  of  a  horse.  "  I 
feel  sure  there  is  some  one  in  that  room,"  she  said  in 
a  low  tone  to  the  doctor  when  Mrs.  Muirhead  stepped 
out  for  a  moment. 

"Is  there  no  way  to  get  in  from  above  ? "  he  asked. 

"  No,  the  only  stairway  leads  to  this  room." 

"  Does  your  father  always  lock  the  door  of  that  room 
when  he  goes  out?"  asked  the  doctor  of  one  of  the 
children. 


PLOTTING  215 

"  No,  only  sometimes,"  was  the  reply. 

"  How  is  it  fastened  ?  " 

"  It  is  bolted  on  the  side  this  way,  and  locked  on  the 
other." 

The  doctor  sauntered  out,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
Agnes  followed.  She  found  the  doctor  examining  the 
door  from  the  outside.  "  That's  a  pretty  strong  lock," 
he  said.  "  I  thought  perhaps  we  could  see  through  the 
window,  but  there  is  a  heavy  shutter,  and  it  is  closed 
tight.  I  suppose  if  we  break  in  we  can  be  accounted 
burglars." 

"  I'm  willing  to  try  it,"  returned  Agnes.  "  As  matters 
stand  this  property  belongs  to  my  mother,  anyhow.  I'll 
try  if  you  will." 

For  answer  the  doctor  drew  a  small  case  of  instru- 
ments from  his  pocket,  and  selecting  one  he  prepared 
to  cut  away  around  the  lock.  There  was  a  subdued 
movement  inside.  Agnes  clasped  her  hands.  "  Oh, 
hurry,  hurry,"  she  cried.  "Let  me  help."  And  by 
degrees  weaker  and  weaker  became  the  barrier,  and 
finally  the  door  was  forced  open.  In  the  dim  light  of 
the  room  was  seen  upon  the  floor  a  man's  form.  He 
was  tied  hand  and  foot. 

"  It  is  Mr.  Willet !  It  is  Parker !  "  cried  Agnes,  rush- 
ing forward. 

"  Open  that  other  door  and  get  some  water,"  ordered 
the  doctor,  as  he  felt  the  cold  face  of  his  friend. 
Agnes  obeyed.  The  children  came  flocking  in.  Mrs. 


2l6  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

Muirhead  stood  anxiously  upon  the  threshold,  not  daring 
to  go  farther. 

Presently  the  doctor  lifted  Parker  to  his  feet,  but  at 
the  same  moment  a  voice  thundered,  "Touch  that 
man  and  I'll  shoot  him  dead  ! "  And  turning,  they  saw 
in  the  doorway  Humphrey  Muirhead's  dark  counte- 
nance distorted  with  rage.  The  man  was  levelling  a 
pistol  at  his  prisoner. 

As  Agnes  caught  sight  of  the  vindictive  look,  it 
seemed  as  if  she  might  be  sure  that  Humphrey's  re- 
venge would  stop  at  nothing  short  of  murder,  and, 
catching  up  little  Honey,  she  interposed  his  form 
between  that  of  Parker  Willett  and  the  enraged  man 
in  the  doorway.  "  Fire,  if  you  dare ! "  she  cried. 
And  the  pistol  dropped  to  Humphrey  Muirhead's 
side. 

At  the  same  moment  Dr.  Flint  exclaimed,  "  Good 
heavens,  man  !  would  you  commit  murder  to  accomplish 
your  ends  ? " 

Humphrey  Muirhead  wheeled  around  upon  him. 
"  You're  here,  are  you  ?  You  talk  of  murder  ?  What 
are  you  ?  If  you  had  your  deserts,  where  would  you  be  ? 
There  is  fine  set  of  you,  your  righteous  partners  who 
begged  you  off,  and  yourself  ;  all  of  you  deserve  to 
swing  for  cheating  justice." 

The  doctor  turned  as  white  as  a  sheet,  and  then  with 
a  cry  of  rage  sprang  forward,  but  a  firm  hand  held  him 
back.  "  Now  look  here,  Hump  Muirhead,"  said  the 


PLOTTING  217 

voice  of  Dod  Hunter,  "  you're  too  free  with  your  talk. 
I'd  like  to  know  what  you've  got  against  Dr.  Flint  and 
Park  Willett.  Nothing  at  all,  except  that  they  are 
better  men  than  you  are.  You  great,  overgrown,  hulk- 
ing coward  —  No,  I'm  not  afeard  o'  ye  ;  if  I  had  been, 
I'd  not  lived  your  neighbor  all  these  years.  I  reckon 
ye  won't  pick  crows  with  me.  I  know  ye  too  well. 
Now,  Nancy,  you  say  your  say ;  there's  nothing  dread- 
ful goin'  to  happen."  And  drawing  up  a  chair  before 
the  open  door,  Dod  Hunter  seated  himself,  with  his  rifle 
across  his  knees. 

Parker  Willett  had  been  looking  from  one  to  the  other 
in  a  dazed  way  as  though  he  only  half  understood  what 
was  going  on. 

"He's  been  drugged,"  declared  the  doctor.  "  He  will 
be  all  right  after  a  while,  Miss  Agnes.  Let  him  lie 
there  on  the  bed."  Agnes  still  stood  with  the  child 
clinging  to  her  neck,  her  mother's  half-brother  glow- 
ering at  her. 

"Just  suppose  you  hand  over  that  pistol,  Hump,"  re- 
marked Dod  Hunter,  blandly ;  "  it's  not  going  to  be  of 
any  use  to  you  just  now.  Shucks  !  man,  but  you  do  let 
your  temper  git  a  terrible  holt  on  ye,"  as  the  discom- 
fited Muirhead  turned  toward  his  neighbor  with  a 
savage  grinding  of  his  teeth,  but  with  no  movement 
toward  giving  up  his  pistol. 

"  Here,  Tom,"  called  Dod,  to  one  of  his  sons,  "  Hump 
wants  you  to  holt  his  pistol  awhile."  And  the  pistol 


218  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

dropped  to  the  floor  with  a  crash,  but  fortunately  was 
not  discharged  in  the  fall. 

"You're  dreadful  keerless,  Hump,"  Dod  said  smil- 
ing, "that might  hev  sent  ye  to  kingdom  come."  And 
picking  up  the  pistol  he  handed  it  to  his  son. 

"I'll  have  it  out  of  every  one  of  you  for  breaking 
into  my  house,"  snarled  Humphrey.  "  Here,  you,  what 
are  you  staring  at?  Take  those  young  uns  out,"  and  he 
turned  menacingly  to  his  wife  who  retreated  to  the  back 
room,  the  children  straggling  after  her,  all  but  Honey, 
who  refused  to  leave  the  arms  which  held  him. 

"Shucks!  Hump,  I'd  like  to  know  if  nabbing  a 
man  ain't  as  bad  as  breakin'  into  a  house.  Perhaps 
you'll  call  it  quits  .on  that,"  suggested  Dod. 

"  Who  said  I  nabbed  any  one? "  questioned  Humphrey. 

"  Park  Willett  was  found  bound  and  drugged  on  your 
premises." 

"  What  proof  have  you  that  I  did  it  ? " 

"  Oh,  well,  when  it  comes  to  that,  I  suppose  there  isn't 
anything  more  than  the  fact.  I  suppose  he  might  have 
done  it  himself  just  for  fun,  might  have  crawled  in 
through  the  keyhole  and  tied  himself  up  to  see  how  it 
would  feel." 

"How  do  you  know  he  is  not  a  criminal,  and  that  I 
am  acting  for  the  law  ? " 

Dod  Hunter  put  back  his  head  and  laughed.  "  That's 
a  good  un !  What's  he  done  accordin'  to  your  idea  of 
it?" 


PLOTTING  2IQ 

"  He  attempted  my  life." 

"  For  why  ?  I  reckon  most  any  man  that's  set  upon 
at  night  by  a  passel  o'  ruffians  is  goin'  to  fight  for  his 
freedom,  his  life,  and  anythin'  else  he  wants  to  keep. 
You  might  as  well  give  in,  Hump." 

"If  it's  a  life  for  a  life,"  said  Agnes,  "perhaps  you 
don't  know  who  saved  Honey  from  drowning  and  brought 
him  back."  She  turned  to  her  uncle. 

"  It  was  Jimmy  O'Neill." 

"It  was  Jimmy  O'Neill  who  first  saved  him,  but  it 
was  Parker  Willett  who  rowed  out  when  the  raft  was 
going  to  pieces,  and  who,  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life 
brought  Jimmy  and  Honey  ashore,  and  it  was  he  who 
found  out  where  Honey  belonged  and  brought  him  to 
Uncle  Dod's." 

Humphrey's  head  dropped. 

"  That's  all  so,  Hump,"  Dod  said.  "  Park's  modest, 
and  wouldn't  let  me  tell  it,  but  insisted  on  Jimmy's 
having  all  the  credit." 

"  If  I'd  'a'  known  that,"  muttered  Hump  — then  he 
growled  out  "but  he's  got  a  forged  will." 

"  A  forged  will  ?     Who  says  so  ?  " 

"  My  father  left  this  place  to  me." 

"  Who  says  that  ?  And  who  has  forged  the  will  ?  " 
asked  Dr.  Flint. 

"  Them  Kennedys ;  they  hashed  it  up  between  'em." 

"  They  did,  did  they  ?  You  seem  to  know  a  great 
deal  about  it.  Suppose  you  question  Jimmy  O'Neill. 


220  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

I  think  he'd  be  able  to  tell  a  different  tale,"  said 
Dod. 

"Jimmy  O'Neill?" 

"Yes,  it  was  he  who  brought  the  will  to  us,"  Agnes 
informed  him.  "  Didn't  Mr.  Willett  tell  you  that  ? " 
she  asked. 

"  He  told  me  some  cock  and  bull  story  about  a  will 
being  made  in  an  Injun  camp,  as  if  anybody 'd  believe 
that." 

"  It  is  true,  anyway,"  declared  Agnes.  "  Have  you 
the  will  ?  " 

"  No,"  the  man  growled,  "  the  fool  didn't  have  it, 
after  all.  He'd  have  been  set  free  by  night  if  you'd 
ha'  let  him  be.  I  don't  see  why  you  made  all  this 
fuss." 

"Well,"  said  Dod,  "there's  an  old  sayin'  about  givin' 
a  dog  a  bad  name,  ye  know,  an'  we  thought  it  was  time 
Park  was  comin'  home." 

Parker,  who  was  now  sitting  up  with  his  head  in  his 
hands,  looked  up  drowsily.  Agnes  went  toward  him. 
"  Have  you  the  will  ? "  she  whispered. 

He  shook  his  head.  "  No,  I  gave  it  to  some  one. 
I'm  so  sleepy  I  can't  talk."  His  head  dropped  again. 

"  It  is  strange  where  it  has  gone,  then,"  said  Agnes, 
"for  I  know  he  had  it  when  he  left  us ;  he  told  me  so." 

"  Well,  I  ain't  got  it,  worse  luck,"  snapped  Humphrey. 

"  Then  it  don't  seem  to  me  that  there's  any  use  our 
settin'  around  here,"  said  Dod.  "As  long  as  Park  ain't 


PLOTTING  221 

got  nothin'  about  him  that  ye  want,  ye'll  be  willin*  we 
should  take  him  home.  Mebbe  ye'd  like  us  all  to  turn 
over  any  little  thing  we've  got  about  us.  YeVe  mis- 
taken yer  callin',  Hump,  ye'd  ought  a  hev  ben  a 
pirate." 

Muirhead  turned  on  him  in  impotent  rage,  but  Dod 
only  laughed  in  his  face.  "  I've  not  done  with  this 
yet,"  said  Humphrey.  "  I'll  admit  I  ain't  nothin'  agin 
Willett,  specially  as  he  saved  my  boy,  an'  I  thank  him 
fur  that  act  o'  hisn,  but  I've  no  call  to  be  friendly  with 
them  Kennedys." 

"  Your  niece  here  took  keer  o'  the  young  un  like  a 
mother,  an'  gave  him  up  with  tears  in  her  eyes  even 
when  she  knew  he  was  yours." 

"  What's  her  tears  to  me  !  She'd  no  right  to  the  boy ; 
he's  mine.  Maybe  they'll  be  tryin'  to  steal  him  next." 

"  Ah,  but  yer  a  black-hearted  scoundrel,  Hump  Muir- 
head," said  Dod,  in  wrath.  "  I've  a  mind  to  take  a 
turn  at  givin'  ye  a  good  lambastin'.  I've  threatened 
myself  to  do  it  this  many  a  day,  an'  I'd  ha'  done  it 
before  now  if  ye  hadn't  bore  yer  father's  name,  pore 
misguided  lad  that  he  was." 

Humphrey's  fist  doubled  up,  but  Dod  faced  him 
with  a  careless  contempt.  "Yer  day  o'  reckonin's 
comin',"  he  went  on,  "  an'  I'm  a-settin*  waitin*  fur  it. 
Come,  lads,  we'll  git  out  o'  this.  I  hope  the  next  time 
we're  under  this  roof  it'll  be  to  call  on  Mrs.  Fergus 
Kennedy.  Walkin's  the  best  thing  to  rouse  Park,  so 


222  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

bring  him  along,  Doc,  you  an'  Tom."     And  he  marched 
out  without  further  ado. 

At  the  threshold  Agnes  darted  back  to  give  Honey 
a  parting  kiss,  and  to  say  good-by  to  Mrs.  Muirhead, 
who  was  shrinking  away  from  the  back  door.  The 
little  woman  was  trembling  with  excitement.  She  held 
something  under  her  apron,  and  after  a  furtive  look 
around,  she  drew  it  forth  and  thrust  it  into  Agnes' s 
hand.  "  Hide  it,  hide  it,"  she  said  in  an  excited  whis- 
per. "  It  dropped  when  they  were  bringing  the  man 
in,  and  I  picked  it  up."  And  Agnes  thrust  into  the 
bosom  of  her  jacket  the  little  flat  box  belonging  to 
Parker  Willett 


CHAPTER  XIV 
JEANIE'S  WEDDING-DAY 

BY  the  time  they  had  reached  the  house,  Parker 
was  sufficiently  aroused  to  be  able  to  tell  some- 
thing of  his  adventure.  He  was  waylaid  in  the  woods 
on  his  way  to  Dod  Hunter's,  and  was  overpowered  by 
a  body  of  men  who  appeared  suddenly  in  his  path. 
They  told  him  if  he  would  come  peaceably  with  them, 
that  no  harm  would  come  to  him.  He  was  bound  and 
taken  to  a  lonely  spot  where  they  gave  him  something 
to  eat  and  drink.  After  that  he  remembered  nothing. 
It  was  supposed  that  he  was  drugged  and  was  then 
carried  to  Humphrey  Muirhead's  where  he  was 
searched.  The  little  box  found  by  Mrs.  Muirhead 
may  or  may  not  have  been  examined,  and  the  parcel, 
which  was  brought  away  from  his  former  home  was 
left  the  next  morning  at  Dod  Hunter's,  being  discov- 
ered on  the  doorstep  by  the  first  one  astir. 

"  I  remember  meeting  some  one  on  the  river  bank  just 
as  I  was  about  to  start  through  the  woods,  and  I  have 
a  dim  recollection  that  I  gave  him  the  will,  but,  strange 
to  say,  I  cannot  remember  who  it  was  or  why  I  gave  it 

223 


224  A  GENTLE,  PIONEER 

to  him.  I  may  not  have  done  this,  and  Hump  Muir- 
head  may  have  it  after  all,  but  I  do  not  know  why  I 
should  be  so  impressed  by  a  transaction  that  never 
occurred." 

"  I  think  when  he  gets  over  the  effects  of  the  stuff 
they  have  given  him,  that  he  will  be  all  right,"  said  Dr. 
Flint,  "  and  I  wouldn't  bother  him  now,"  he  told  Agnes. 

The  girl  refused  to  remain  after  they  had  returned 
to  the  Hunters',  but  after  taking  something  to  eat,  she 
started  home,  being  escorted  safely  to  the  river's  brink 
by  Jerry,  who  gave  his  opinion  of  Hump  Muirhead 
in  forcible  language.  "  I  hope  to  goodness  he  ain't  got 
that  will,"  he  said,  "  for  it  would  be  purty  hard  work 
to  prove  its  contents,  and  he  knows  it.  I  hope  Park  is 
right  about  givin'  it  to  somebody  else,  but  who  in  the 
mischief  could  it  have  been  ?  Park  is  cautious,  and  it 
would  be  a  shaky  thing  to  do  unless  you  was  right  cer- 
tain of  yer  man.  I  reckon  it'll  come  out  all  right  —  give 
us  time ;  but  it's  my  opinion  it'll  take  force  to  git  Hump 
outen  that  house,  but  I'll  be  one  to  use  that  same  force." 

"  Ah  me !  "  sighed  Agnes,  "  if  only  people  would  be 
true  and  honest  in  this  world,  how  much  trouble  it 
would  save." 

"  The  millennium  ain't  came  yit,"  said  Jerry,  "  but  I 
agree  with  you  that  we  could  have  things  a  bit  easier  if 
some  folks  would  only  half  try.  I  ain't  no  saint,  my- 
self, but  I'm  open  and  above  board,  that  nobody'll 
deny." 


JEANIE'S  WEDDING-DAY  225 

"  I  think  that  can  safely  be  said  of  all  your  family," 
returned  Agnes,  as  she  stepped  into  the  little  skiff. 
"Good-by,  Jerry.  I  hope  we  shall  soon  be  nearer 
neighbors." 

"  I'll  give  ye  my  hand  on  that,"  Jerry  answered,  as 
he  gave  her  boat  a  push  off. 

It  was  now  late  in  the  day,  and  as  Agnes  climbed  the 
hilly  steep,  she  felt  the  strain  of  the  morning  had  told 
upon  her,  and  when  she  came  in  looking  fagged  and 
pale,  her  mother  took  alarm. 

"  Why,  my  bairn,"  she  cried,  "what  ails  you  ?  Has  it 
been  so  serious  a  thing  ?  " 

"  It  was  serious,  very,"  Agnes  responded,  sinking 
down  on  the  settle.  "  It  has  been  an  exciting  day, 
mother.  I  told  you  the  truth  when  I  said  I  might  be 
needed,  for  I  was,  but  I  did  mislead  you  a  little,  though 
some  one  really  was  ill.  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it  and 
I  think  you  will  not  blame  me.  I  could  not  tell  you  at 
the  time,  for  I  had  promised  Uncle  Dod  I  would  not, 
but  now,  as  it  has  come  out,  he  thinks  I  should  let  you 
know."  And  she  poured  forth  her  tale  to  her  mother's 
attentive  ears. 

When  she  had  finished,  her  mother's  face  wore  a 
startled,  pained  expression.  "  It  is  terrible,  Agnes," 
she  exclaimed.  "  What  a  lawless  country  that  we  have 
come  to !  I  shall  rear  to  go  from  the  protection  of 
Jimmy  O'Neill's  big  fist." 

"You  needn't  be,"  returned  Agnes,  lightly,  "for  there 
Q 


226  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

is  Uncle  Dod  Hunter  and  all  his  three  big  sons  on  one 
side  and  Parker  Willett  on  the  other.  What  chiefly 
concerns  us  now  is  the  whereabouts  of  the  will.  I  don't 
believe  Hump  Muirhead  has  it,  for  he  seemed  really  in 
earnest  about  his  disappointment  in  not  finding  it.  I 
believe  in  Mr.  Willett's  impression  that  he  gave  it  to 
some  one,  and  I  think  he  will  remember  who  it  is,  so 
don't  let  us  trouble  ourselves  just  yet  to  say  anything 
about  it  to  Jimmy  or  Polly." 

"  Another  thing  that  worries  me,"  Mrs.  Kennedy  went 
on,  "  is  our  obligation  to  Mr.  Willett ;  in  trying  to  do  us 
a  service  he  has  suffered,  and  I  do  not  feel  comfortable 
over  it." 

"Never  mind,  don't  fash  yourself;  he  is  safe,  and  let 
us  hope  the  will  is,  too.  Besides,  now  Hump  will  not 
want  to  do  him  any  further  harm  because  of  Honey ; 
so  a  blessing  came  out  of  that,"  she  added  softly. 
"  Now,  mother,  tell  me  what  has  been  going  on  to-day 
since  I  left.  Who  has  been  here  ?  " 

"Your  friend,  Jean  M'Clean,  for  one.  She  came  to 
bid  us  all  to  her  wedding.  It  will  take  place  next 
week." 

"Why,  that  is  a  month  sooner  than  she  expected." 

"Yes;  but  Jeanie  says  David  is  persistent,  and  that 
he  cannot  see  any  reason  for  waiting,  and  as  there  is  no 
real  reason,  they  may  as  well  be  married  at  once." 

"Then  you  will  see  a  true  backwoods  wedding, 
,  mother,  and  you  may  expect  a  roystering  time.  David 


JEANIE'S   WEDDING-DAY  227 

went  to  Marietta  on  Wednesday,  and  I  know  now 
what  was  his  errand.  I  wonder  when  he  is  coming 
back.  He  is  a  good  David,  though  rather  an  obstinate 
one  sometimes." 

This  new  interest  for  the  time  being  quite  drove  away 
the  thought  of  the  will.  There  really  was  nothing  to 
be  done  about  it  for  the  present,  and  Agnes  turned  her 
attention  to  Jeanie. 

"  I  must  go  over  and  see  the  bride  that  is  to  be,"  she 
said  the  next  day.  "  I  promised  her  my  help  when  the 
wedding-day  should  come.  It  seems,  mother,  that  you 
have  come  to  a  spot  where  there  are  a  great  many 
exciting  things  going  on,  and  I  have  no  doubt  you 
thought  it  would  be  very  dull.  I  am  sorry  that  all 
these  things  call  me,  but  I  am  always  so  glad  to  think 
you  are  here  for  me  to  come  back  to." 

She  found  Jeanie  going  about  her  preparations  in  a 
most  orderly  manner;  nothing  in  that  household  ever 
suggested  confusion.  Jeanie's  chest,  filled  with  its  store 
of  linen,  stood  ready  to  be  carried  to  her  new  home. 
A  pretty  young  heifer,  her  father's  gift  to  her,  lowed 
in  the  stable  yard.  Jeanie's  plain  stuff  gown  had 
been  woven  and  colored  with  more  care  than  usual,  and 
her  neckerchief  was  snowy  white  from  long  bleaching ; 
it  was,  too,  of  finer  linen  than  had  ever  been  made  in 
the  community,  and  it  was  edged  with  a  bit  of  lace, 
part  of  her  mother's  little  hoard.  There  would  be  no 
veil  and  orange  blossoms  for  this  bride.  She  might 


228  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

tuck  a  few  spring  blossoms  in  her  dark  hair,  and  wear 
a  sprig  at  her  breast,  but  her  ornaments  would  be  few 
and  simple.  She  showed  with  great  pride  her  shoes, 
ornamented  with  a  pair  of  silver  buckles,  and  took 
more  pleasure  in  this  bit  of  grandeur  than  in  any  other 
part  of  her  wardrobe. 

"  They  are  true  silver,  Nancy,  and  the  shoes  we  were 
able  to  get  from  Patty  Hopkins.  She  brought  them 
from  home  with  her  and  her  feet  had  outgrown  them 
before  she  wore  them  at  all.  Was  I  not  lucky  to  get 
them  ?  Aren't  they  fine  ?  " 

"They  are,  indeed,"  returned  Agnes,  viewing  the 
new  shoes  admiringly.  "There  are  gay  times  ahead," 
she  went  on,  "with  a  wedding,  a  housewarming,  and 
all  that.  When  does  David  come  back?" 

"  We  expect  him  Saturday,  but  he  may  be  detained 
over  Sabbath.  There  is  a  deal  to  do  yet,  and  it  is  well 
he  is  not  here  to  take  up  my  time." 

Agnes  laughed.  "  What  an  unromantic  speech  ;  for 
my  part  I  think  I  should  rather  have  my  lover's  presence 
than  so  big  a  feast." 

"  Ah,  but  I  shall  have  his  company  for  the  rest  of 
my  life,  and  a  wedding-feast  is  but  once  prepared ; 
besides,  it  is  not  for  ourselves,  but  for  our  company." 

"  That  is  true,  too.  Well,  Jeanie,  it  is  too  early  yet 
to  cook  the  feast,  but  I  will  be  here  on  Monday  and 
give  you  all  the  help  I  can.  I  have  left  my  mother  so 
much  of  late  that  I  must  hurry  back  now." 


JEANIE'S   WEDDING-DAY  229 

"  Can't  you  stay  ? "  said  Jeanie,  wistfully.  "  I  would 
like  to  have  one  more  talk  about  our  girlhood  before 
I  am  made  a  wife.  There  is  much  I  have  to  tell  and 
much  I  want  to  hear." 

Agnes  hesitated ;  it  seemed  unkind  to  refuse  the 
request,  yet  her  mother  must  be  considered.  "  I  prom- 
ised I  would  not  stay  long,"  she  said. 

"  I  will  send  one  of  the  children  over  to  say  that  you 
will  stay,"  said  Jeanie,  eagerly,  and  to  this  Agnes 
consented. 

"  If  Archie  were  only  here,"  sighed  Jeanie,  "  my 
happiness  would  be  complete,  and  yours,  too,  wouldn't 
it,  Nancy  ? " 

"  I  am  very  content  as  it  is,"  Agnes  told  her.  "  Pray, 
Jeanie,  don't  think  of  Archie's  ever  being  nearer  to  me 
than  a  friend.  He  is  a  dear  good  lad,  but  he  will  bring 
you  a  sister  more  worthy  of  his  calling  than  I  could  be." 

"  He  will  bring  me  none  that  I  would  rather  have," 
returned  Jeanie,  stoutly,  "  and  as  for  the  worthiness,  it 
is  but  experience  you  need,  mother  says.  Ah,  no, 
Nancy,  I  shall  not  give  you  up  yet." 

But  Agnes's  thoughts  were  drifting  off  to  the  hill- 
side and  the  sunset,  and  she  suddenly  sprang  to  her 
feet.  "  I  cannot  stay,  Jeanie,  I  really  cannot.  I  forgot 
that  little  Fergus  is  ailing,  and  that  Polly  is  all  tired 
out  with  her  soap-making.  I  ought  to  go  home,  but  I 
will  come  again  and  spend  a  night  with  you.  I  will 
come  to-morrow,  and  then  we  can  go  to  meeting  to- 


230  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

gether  and  I  will  be  here  on  Monday  all  ready  to  begin 
the  day's  work  with  you,  for  I  can  stay  over  Sabbath  as 
well  as  not."  And  with  this  arrangement  Jeanie  was 
so  well  pleased  that  she  let  her  friend  go  without 
further  protest. 

Agnes  hurried  along  with  a  feeling  that  she  must 
reach  the  hilltop  before  sundown,  and  true  enough  she 
was  rewarded  by  a  sight  of  a  skiff  drawn  up  on  the 
sands,  and  she  knew  it  to  be  Parker  Willett's.  She 
hastened  her  steps  and  found  that  he  had  caught  sight 
of  her  and  that  he  was  coming  to  meet  her. 

"  I  am  fortunate,"  he  said  as  he  came  up,  "  for  I 
might  have  missed  you." 

"  I  came  very  near  staying  with  Jeanie.  You  know 
she  is  to  be  married  next  week." 

"  So  soon  ?  Yes,  I  believe  I  did  hear  something  of 
it.  Where  did  I  hear  it  ?  There  are  still  some  things 
which  confuse  thfe  foolish  brain  of. mine.  Well,  little 
girl,  I  have  still  much  to  thank  you  for."  He  took  her 
hands  and  shook  them  warmly.  "  I  am  very  grateful. 
To  think  you  took  that  risk  for  me !  " 

"  To  think  you  took  that  risk  for  us !  It  was  my 
grandfather's  will  that  made  all  the  trouble;  it  had 
nothing  to  do  with  you  personally." 

"  Yes,  the  will,  and  do  you  know,  I  am  not  able  yet 
to  remember  whom  it  was  that  I  gave  the  will  to.  It 
will  all  come  back  to  me,  Henry  Flint  says,  and  I  am 
more  and  more  sure  that  there  was  some  reason  why  it 


JEANIE'S  WEDDING-DAY  231 

was  best  to  give  it  up.  I  am  sure  it  will  come  to  light, 
and  that  it  was  not  stolen.  My  little  box  that  held  the 
miniatures,  I  regret  that,  for  it  is  gone." 

"  Oh,  no,  it  isn't.  I  have  it  safe  and  sound,"  and  she 
told  of  the  circumstances  by  which  it  came  into  her 
possession. 

"  I  am  truly  glad  to  hear  that,"  said  Parker.  "  Will 
you  keep  the  box  for  me,  Agnes  ?  I  think  it  is  safer  in 
your  hands  than  in  mine,  if  I  am  so  stupid  about  re- 
membering what  I  do  with  things." 

"  You  are  not  to  blame  for  forgetting,  and,  yes,  I  will 
keep  it  gladly,  and  may  I  look  at  the  miniatures  some- 
times?" 

"  Would  you  like  to  ?  I  am  pleased  that  you  should 
care  to." 

"  I  needn't  be  afraid  of  finding  anything  under  the 
secret  panel,"  said  Agnes,  with  a  glad  little  laugh. 
Then  more  softly,  "Are  you  sorry* that  the  place  is 
empty  ? " 

"  No,  I  am  very  glad,  you  sweet  child."  He  still 
held  her  hands  and  looked  at  her  with  so  tender  an  ex- 
pression that  the  girl's  eyes  drooped.  "Alicia,  you 
know,  Alicia,"  he  went  on,  "would  never  have  joined 
a  band  of  rough  men  and  have  scoured  the  country  with 
them  to  find  me.  She  would  have  been  scandalized  if 
any  one  had  suggested  such  a  thing." 

"  Was  it  wrong  ?  I  never  thought.  You  see  Uncle 
Dod  was  there,  and  I  could  trust  him.  Besides  I  —  I  — 


232  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

think  I  would  have  done  it,  anyhow,  to  —  to  —  save 
you." 

He  gave  her  hands  a  sudden  pressure,  then  dropped 
them.  "  Agnes  Kennedy,"  he  said,  "  you  dear,  unspoiled 
child,  you  are  certainly  revealing  a  new  and  delightful 
side  of  your  character.  I  don't  know  what  I  shall  do  if 
you  keep  on  showing  these  surprising  traits."  He 
stepped  back  from  her,  and  turned  away  his  gaze  to  the 
river,  now  molten  gold  from  the  clouds  overhead.  "  Talk 
of  wealth,"  he  went  on,  "  I  am  rich  with  a  mine  of  pure 
gold  so  near  me.  Listen,  Agnes,  I  have  set  myself  a 
task.  When  I  found  that  I  was  penniless,  and  when  I 
decided  that  I  would  come  to  the  West,  it  was  my  mother 
who  insisted  upon  giving  me  her  last  dollar  to  start  me  in 
the  world.  She  said  it  was  her  fault,  the  dear,  unworldly 
woman  who  was  so  easily  deceived  by  appearances,  but 
I  told  her  I  would  take  it  only  as  a  loan,  and  I  hold  that 
I  am  not  a  free  man  till  that  is  paid.  It  was  not  my 
mother's  fault  that  her  second  husband  proved  a  vision- 
ary, unpractical  man,  and  I  should  feel  a  mean-spirited 
wretch  if  I  defrauded  her  of  the  little  hoard  she  gave 
me  so  willingly.  And  that  is  why,  in  honor,  I  am  not  a 
free  man,  and  why  —  and  why,  Agnes,  little  girl,  I  do 
not  dare  to  see  too  much  of  you.  But  some  day  —  "  he 
turned  and  his  eyes  met  hers,  and  each  read  the  story 
revealed.  Neither  spoke  a  word  till  Agnes  said  faintly, 
"  I  must  go  home ;  mother  will  be  expecting  me." 

"  May  I  go  with  you  ?  " 


JEANIE'S   WEDDING-DAY  233 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  were  going,  weren't  you  ? " 

"  I  didn't  know.  I  hadn't  thought  of  whether  I  wanted 
to  see  anybody  but—  There,  Agnes,  let's  talk  of  the 
weather — or  —  your  mother  or  something." 

"  I  want  to  know  if  you  feel  quite  well." 

"  Yes,  except  for  a  buzzing  in  my  head  when  I  try  to 
concentrate  my  thoughts,  but  that  is  passing  away. 
How  did  you  like  Dr.  Flint  ? " 

"  I  thought  him  very  interesting." 

"  He  said  you  were  the  bravest  girl  he  ever  saw." 

"  Did  he  ?     He  might  have  told  me  so." 

"  I  told  him  he  might  say  that  to  me  but  not  to  you,  and 
that  if  he  kept  on  raving  about  you,  I  would  punch  his 
head.  There,  Agnes,  we  must  talk  of  the  weather,  or 
I  am  lost.  Did  your  mother  scold  you  very  severely  for 
chasing  about  in  the  woods  all  day  with  the  Hunters?" 

"  No,  she  looked  very  grave  at  first,  but  she  said  I  did 
right,  and  she  was  more  concerned  about  your  having 
suffered  on  our  account  than  about  anything  else." 

"  Pshaw !  I  didn't  exactly  suffer ;  you  can  hardly 
call  it  that.  I  must  hasten  to  reassure  her  on  that 
point.  Dare  I  face  her  and  Jimmy  O'Neill  without 
the  will  ? " 

"  Jimmy  doesn't  know  but  you  have  it  still.  I  didn't 
tell  any  one  but  mother,  and  she  thought  it  was  best  not 
to  mention  it  for  a  few  days." 

"  It  is  plain  to  see  that  you  have  profited  by  the 
example  of  a  most  extraordinarily  considerate  woman, 


234  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

Agnes.  How  fine  that  sky  is !  We  shall  have  good 
weather  to-morrow." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,  for  I  promised  Jeanie  to  spend 
the  Sabbath  with  her.  She  has  such  a  pretty  fine 
neckerchief,  and  such  fine  silver  buckles  for  her  shoes, 
new  shoes,  too."  Agnes  looked  down  at  her  own  coarse 
shoepacks,  and  Parker's  eyes  followed  her  glance. 
About  the  home  place  she  was  wont  to  go  barefoot  in 
mild  weather,  and  he  thought  the  shoepacks  were 
scarce  an  improvement  upon  the  fashion.  "Would 
you  like  to  have  a  pair  of  pretty  shoes  with  silver 
buckles  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  would  dearly  like  to  have  them.  I  suppose  it 
isn't  right  to  be  wishing  for  such  vanities,  but  I  believe 
I  like  vanities." 

"Almost  all  girls  do,  and  if  I  had  my  way,  they 
should  all  have  them.  I  wish  I  were  a  cordwainer, 
Agnes,  I'd  then  make  you  a  pair  of  the  daintiest  shoes 
you  ever  saw."  He  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed 
joyously  at  the  thought. 

"What  is  so  funny?" 

"  That  I  should  envy  a  shoemaker  his  trade,  and  that 
in  this  delightful  locality  one  doesn't  need  money  nor 
fine  apparel  to  make  him  like  other  people,  or  to  make 
him  happy.  I  was  suddenly  impressed  with  the  humor 
of  it,  and  I  laughed  in  sheer  mockery  of  those  mis- 
guided persons  in  that  way-back,  unenlightened  land  I 
came  from,  who  have  yet  to  learn  that  fine  feathers  do 


JEANIE'S  WEDDING-DAY  235 

not  make  fine  birds,  for  the  rarest,  sweetest  little  bird  I 
know  doesn't  have  and  doesn't  need  any  fine  feathers. 
Speaking  of  birds,  it  must  be  pleasant  work  building  a 
nest.  Just  suppose,  Agnes,  for  the  humor  of  it,  that 
we  were  a  pair  of  birds,  and  were  thinking  of  nest-build- 
ing, would  the  prospect  please  you  ?  There,  don't  an- 
swer me.  I  insist  that  it  will  be  a  fine  day  to-morrow. 
How  does  the  garden  come  on  ?  Are  those  beans  up 
yet?" 

Agnes  laughed  in  reply.  This  nonsense  was  delight- 
ful. She  understood  it  all,  and  could  have  wandered 
on  the  river's  bank  forever  listening  to  the  merry 
chatter. 

They  went  on  in  silence  for  a  little  time,  then  Parker 
asked  abruptly,  "  Do  you  like  books,  Agnes?" 

"  I  am  very  fond  of  them,  but  we  never  had  many, 
and  I  have  had  no  time  to  read  since  I  came  here,  even 
if  I  had  had  anything  to  read.  I  picked  up  a  book  of 
yours  one  day,  and  I  read  a  little.  I  liked  it." 

"What  was  it?" 

".  One  of  the  plays  of  Mr.  Shakespeare." 

"  I  am  glad  you  like  to  read,"  he  said  thoughtfully ; 
"  we  will  have  some  pleasant  times  together,  when  the 
work  is  done,  and  in  those  long  evenings  —  He 
broke  off  with  a  start,  a  flush  coming  to  his  face.  He 
laughed  in  an  embarrassed  sort  of  way.  "  I  seem  to  for- 
get that  I  am  no  longer  a  member  of  your  household, 
don't  I  ?  But  I  have  a  few  books  with  me,  and  you 


236  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

can  read  them  and  tell  me  afterward  what  you  think  of 
them." 

"  I  shall  like  that  when  the  winter  comes,  and  we 
have  such  long  evenings,  but  then  comes  the  spinning, 
and  all  that,  but  I  shall  get  some  time,  I  hope.  We 
should  be  in  our  own  home  by  that  time,  don't  you 
think  so  ? " 

"  I  think  you  should  be  there  before  then  if  there's 
any  justice  in  the  land,  but  I  am  shirking  my  duty.  I 
must  go  and  tell  your  mother  that  I  don't  know  anything 
about  that  will.  Come,  Agnes,  and  give  me  countenance." 

The  will  was  still  unaccounted  for  on  the  morning  of 
Jeanie's  wedding-day,  and  Mrs.  Kennedy  felt  an  anxiety 
that  she  did  not  express,  though  Agnes  was  so  absorbed 
in  the  exciting  prospect  of  the  day's  pleasure  that  she 
gave  no  thought  to  it.  It  was  the  ordinary  custom 
for  the  bridal  procession  to  form  at  the  home  of  the 
groom's  father  and  from  thence  to  escort  him  to  the 
home  of  the  bride,  but  David's  parents  were  not  living, 
and  the  Tad  had  his  own  home,  so  thither  the  guests  re- 
paired, only  to  find  the  house  closed  and  barred.  The 
men  stared,  the  girls  nudged  each  other.  What  was 
wrong  ?  Had  the  groom  deserted  his  lady-love  ?  Was 
he  playing  a  trick  ?  Was  he  so  shy  that  he  had  stolen 
a  march  upon  them,  and  was  now  in  advance  of  them 
making  his  way  to  Jeanie's  house  ?  All  these  conjec- 
tures were  fairly  discussed,  but  there  seemed  to  be  no 
satisfactory  solution. 


JEANIE'S  WEDDING-DAY  237 

"There  hasn't  ben  no  weddin'  sence  Dave  come 
among  us,"  at  last  Jerry  Hunter  remarked,  "  and  maybe 
he  didn't  exactly  understand  our  ways.  I  say  we  go  on 
without  him,  and  like  as  not  we'll  find  him  there.  We 
ain't  goin'  to  break  up  the  weddin'  on  his  account ;  it's 
likely  he  thought  he'd  make  the  trip  alone.  Who  see 
him  last?" 

Each  looked  at  the  other.  No  one  seemed  able  to 
say.  David  had  not  appeared  at  meeting  on  the  previ- 
ous Sabbath,  and  it  was  known  that  he  had  started  for 
Marietta  some  days  before  that ;  further  than  this  there 
seemed  nothing  definite  to  be  learned. 

Two  by  two  the  cavalcade  set  forth  through  the 
woods,  now  beginning  to  show  a  sparse  leafage  brought 
suddenly  out  by  a  day  of  warmth.  Gay  was  the  little 
company,  for  fun  was  the  leading  purpose  of  the  hour. 
Some  tricksters  having  started  on  ahead,  an  unexpected 
volley  of  musketry  from  an  ambuscade  gave  cause  for 
much  plunging  of  horses,  many  shrieks  from  the  lasses, 
and  much  uproarious  laughter  after  the  smoke  had 
cleared  away.  There  was  no  road  save  the  bridle-path, 
and  that  none  too  good,  but  the  roughly  dressed  com- 
pany cared  little  for  that,  and,  indeed,  the  more  obstacles 
in  the  way  of  fallen  trees  or  ragged  grape-vines  the  bet- 
ter the  fun.  Clad  in  leathern  breeches,  stout  leggings, 
linsey  hunting-shirts,  the  men  were  a  picturesque  crew, 
while  the  lasses  in  their  linsey-woolsey  gowns  rarely 
boasted  an  ornament  unless  it  might  be  such  as  a  few 


238  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

could  show  in  the  way  of  heirlooms  like  buckles  or  lace 
ruffles. 

Arrived  at  last  the  riders  tied  up  their  horses,  and  all 
trooped  into  the  house  where  the  bride  and  her  friends 
awaited  the  coming  of  the  groom. 

Jerry  Hunter  as  leader  entered  first,  and  gave  a  sharp 
glance  around  the  room.  "  Where's  Davy  ?  "  he  blurted 
out. 

Mrs.  M'Clean's  cheek  turned  suddenly  pale,  and  her 
husband  cast  a  keen  glance  toward  the  door.  "  None 
o'  yer  joking,"  he  said  sternly. 

"  I'm  not  jokin',  as  I'm  a  sinner,"  returned  Jerry. 
"  Am  I,  boys  ?  Isn't  Dave  here  ?  " 

"  No."      The  word  came  sharp  from  the  father's  lips. 

His  wife  gave  him  -an  appealing  look.  "  I  hope  noth- 
ing has  happened  to  the  lad,"  she  said  in  a  troubled 
voice.  "  Ye've  not  seen  him  the  morn,  Jerry  ? " 

"  No,  nor  have  any  of  us." 

"  He  was  no  at  meeting  on  Sabbath  day,"  said  the 
minister,  gravely,  as  he  came  forward,  "and  he  was  sure 
to  be  home  by  then,  he  told  me." 

"  And  not  later  than  yesterday,"  said  Mrs.  M'Clean. 
She  slipped  from  the  room  to  where  Jeanie,  surrounded 
by  her  girl  friends,  was  waiting.  At  the  pitying  look 
on  her  mother's  face  she  sprang  to  her  feet.  "  Mother, 
what's  happened  to  David  ? "  she  cried. 

"  Naught  that  we  know  of,  lass,  but  he's  not  come." 

Agnes  pressed  close  and  sought  Jeanie's  hand.     "  He 


JEANIE'S  WEDDING-DAY  239 

will  come,  Jeanie,"  she  whispered.  The  other  girls  looked 
at  one  another,  one  or  two  with  a  faintly  significant 
smile.  Agnes  was  quick  to  see  them.  "  He  will  come," 
she  said  with  assurance  ;  "  something  has  happened  to 
detain  him  a  little.  David  was  always  one  to  keep  his 
word."  She  nodded  her  head  decidedly  at  those  who 
had  smiled.  "  Don't  fret,  Jean,"  said  one  of  the  other 
girls. 

"  Fret  ?  Why  should  I  fret  ?  "  she  asked,  holding  up 
her  head.  "  I  know  that  David  is  as  true  as  steel,  and 
if  mishap  has  overtaken  him,  it  is  no  fault  of  his.  We 
can  wait  awhile,  mother.  Tell  the  company  we  will 
wait  awhile." 

Mrs.  M' Clean  returned  to  the  front  room.  The  gos- 
sips were  whispering  together ;  most  of  the  men  had 
strolled  out  and  were  standing  in  knots  outside,  looking 
stern  disapprobation,  for  a  man  to  be  behindhand  on 
his  wedding-day  did  not  augur  well.  Time  sped  on. 
It  would  be  an  unprecedented  thing  if  the  wedding 
were  not  to  take  place  before  noon,  and  the  waiting 
company  watched  the  sun  as  it  mounted  high  in  the 
heavens,  and  still  no  David  appeared. 

"  Puir  lass,"  sighed  one  good  wife  to  another,  "wid- 
dowed  before  she's  a  wife." 

"  Or  worse,  deserted  at  the  very  altar.  She'll  not 
hold  her  head  up  after  this  ;  she's  a  proud  lass,  is  Jean 
M'Clean." 

In  the  back  room  Jean  sat.     She,  too,  was  watching 


240  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

the  sun  climbing  so  surely  and  steadily  toward  the 
zenith.  At  the  noontide  hour  she  arose  to  her  feet, 
her  face  white  and  drawn.  "  Leave  me,  friends,"  she 
said.  "  There'll  be  no  wedding  to-day.  I  am  sorry 
to  disappoint  you.  Leave  me,  please." 

They  all  filed  out,  casting  compassionate  looks  upon 
her.  Agnes  alone  refused  to  leave.  "  Oh,  Jeanie  dear," 
she  whispered,  "out  of  evils  sometimes  comes  a  blessing. 
I  have  known  it  so.  Don't  give  up,  dear  heart." 

Jeanie  turned  from  her  and  clasped  her  hands,  then 
with  groping  steps  strove  to  reach  the  door;  at  the 
threshold  she  stopped.  "I  can't  —  I  can't  face  them 
all,"  she  cried.  "  Tell  my  mother." 

"Hark!"  exclaimed  Agnes.  There  was  the  sound  of 
flying  hoofs  —  beat,  beat,  —  along  the  road.  With  one 
spring  Jeanie  reached  the  window  and  pulled  back  the 
curtain.  "  It's  David  !  "  she  cried.  "  It's  David,  my 
lad ! "  and  then  all  trembling  she  sank  down,  sobbing 
out  her  joy. 


CHAPTER   XV 

WHO   HAD  THE  WILL 

IT  was,  without  doubt,  David  who  was  coming 
pounding  along  the  path  up  from  the  woods, 
and  who,  dusty  and  travel-stained,  drew  up  his  reek- 
ing horse  before  the  door.  The  men  gathered  closely 
about  him,  the  women  craned  their  necks  from  the 
door.  "  What  is  the  matter,  Davy,  lad  ?  What  kept 
ye,  Dave  ?  Are  ye  ill,  lad  ?  Look  at  the  hoss,  he's 
near  spent,"  were  some  of  the  various  remarks  made, 
as  David,  elbowing  his  way  through  the  crowd,  entered 
the  house.  He  answered  no  questions,  but  made  straight 
for  Mrs.  M'Clean.  "  Where's  Jeanie  ?  "  he  asked  hur- 
riedly, and  following  her  glance  he  went  toward  the 
door  of  the  next  room,  paused  not  to  knock,  but  en- 
tered forthwith. 

Jeanie,  the  tears  still  standing  in  her  eyes,  was  wait- 
ing. David  held  out  his  two  hands.  "  Am  I  too  late, 
lass  ?  It's  not  my  fault.  I  beeta  get  here  long  ago, 
but  it's  a  tale  I  must  tell  later.  I  am  safe  now,  but 
am  I  too  late  ?  Will  ye  turn  me  off  for  being  behind- 
hand ?  Do  you  doubt  me  ?  " 
R  241 


242  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  Not  I,  David,"  said  Jeanie,  giving  him  her  hands. 
"  I'm  thankful  you've  come  to  no  mishap.  I  never 
doubted  you,  but  I  feared  ill  had  befallen  you." 

"  Will  ye  tak  me  as  I  am,  dusty  an'  worn  with 
travel?  I've  come  forty  mile  the  morn.  Will  ye 
listen  to  me  tale  now,  or  will  ye  stand  up  wi'  me  be- 
fore the  meenister  so?"  David  was  lapsing  into  the 
dialect  of  his  childhood,  in  his  excitement. 

"Ay,  David,  I  will  marry  you  first,  and  hear  the 
tale  after.  It's  not  too  late ;  the  sun  was  at  noon  but 
half  an  hour  ago,  and  the  company  will  be  glad  not  to 
miss  the  wedding." 

He  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  led  her  into  the  next 
room.  The  guests  fell  back  into  their  places,  whisper- 
ing, nudging,  wondering.  In  consideration  of  the  feast 
awaiting,  and  in  view  of  the  curiosity  which  pervaded 
the  entire  party,  the  minister's  harangue  was  not  so 
lengthy  as  usual,  and  the  two  standing  before  him 
were  wedded  in  short  order,  but  in  the  prayer  there 
were  fewer  allusions  to  the  wife's  being  in  obedience 
to  her  husband,  and  more  expressions  of  thankfulness 
than  were  commonly  spoken ;  the  good  pastor  evi- 
dently felt  that  the  young  man  had  escaped  disaster, 
and  did  not  hesitate  to  say  so. 

The  final  blessing  had  hardly  been  pronounced  when 
the  curious  friends  crowded  around.  "Yer  story, 
David ;  ye  promised  it." 

"  Tut,  tut !  "  cried  Polly  O'Neill,  "  an'  where  are  yer 


WHO   HAD   THE  WILL  243 

good  wishes  ?  Ye're  that  ongracious,  all  o'  ye,  that  ye'd 
leave  the  bride  an'  groom  wid  no  congratulaytions  at 
all.  Here's  good  health  to  ye,  Mr.  an'  Mrs.  David 
Campbell,  an'  may  ye  have  thumpin'  luck." 

Then  came  a  merry  effort  from  each  to  outdo  the 
others  in  getting  a  hand-shake,  a  kiss  from  the  bride,  and 
a  chance  to  offer  good  wishes,  the  minister  standing  by 
in  his  blacks,  a  serious  smile  upon  his  kind,  weather- 
beaten  face.  The  girls  laughing,  pushing,  exclaiming, 
exchanging  jokes  with  the  young  men,  were  first  to 
throw  themselves  upon  the  bride's  neck,  after  she  had 
received  the  kisses  of  her  father  and  mother ;  and  then 
the  young  men  must  kiss  the  bride,  too ;  and  the  more 
saucy  damsels  challenged  the  groom  for  a  like  ex- 
change. So  for  a  time  there  was  much  merry-mak- 
ing and  laughter. 

When  the  last  good  wish  had  been  spoken,  the  minis- 
ter turned  to  the  company.  "  My  friends,"  he  said,  "  I 
think  David  has  something  to  say  to  us,  and  if  ye  will 
all  take  orderly  places,  we  shall  hear  it." 

David,  blushing  up  to  the  roots  of  his  hair,  stood 
awkwardly  facing  the  guests.  "  My  friends,"  he  began, 
"  I  owe  my  excuses  to  ye  for  keeping  ye  waiting,  but 
when  I  tell  ye  how  it  came  about,  I  think  ye'll  say  it 
was  no  because  I  lacked  the  wish  to  get  here."  He 
paused  and  looked  around  for  encouragement. 

"  Ay,  David,"  said  the  minister,  "  nae  one  doubts  the 
desire." 


244  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

David  continued.  "  This  morning  at  daybreak  I  was 
forty  miles  away  from  here.  I  left  Maxwell's  yesterday 
morn,  expecting  to  get  here  by  sundown,  but  after  I'd 
gone  a  mile  I  remembered  something  I  had  forgotten 
and  turned  back.  A  quarter  mile  further  on,  from  the 
bushes  sprang  two  men,  one  grabbed  the  bridle,  the 
other  covered  me  with  his  pistol. 

" '  Get  off,  peaceably,'  he  says,  *  and  ye'll  have  no 
harm  done  ye.'  I  felt  for  me  knife,  but  it  was  yorked 
out  of  my  hand,  and  knowing  I'd  not  time  for  many 
hours'  delay,  down  I  got.  *  Ye're  on  the  way  to  Max- 
well's,' said  one  of  the  villyuns. 

"  '  What's  that  to  you  ? '  said  I. 

"  '  It's  a  good  bit  to  me,'  he  said,  '  if  ye  were  coming 
away.'  He  looked  at  me  threatening  like,  and  I  made 
haste  to  say,  '  I'm  going  there,'  though  I  was  both  going 
and  coming,  and  had  been  before. 

"  *  We're  not  too  late,  then,'  said  the  other  fellow. 
'  Hand  over  every  paper  about  ye,  and  we'll  let  ye  go.'  " 

A  sharp  exclamation  came  from  Parker  Willett  stand- 
ing near  the  door. 

David  paid  no  heed  to  it  but  went  on.  "  I'd  no  mind 
to  do  that,  and  I  refused.  With  that  the  two  fell  on  me, 
and  we'd  a  fight  of  it,  but  being  two  against  one,  at  last 
they  got  me  down  and  tied  me  hand  and  foot;  then 
they  went  through  my  pockets,  my  pouch,  my  saddle- 
bags, and  even  took  the  shoes  from  my  feet ;  but  they 
didn't  find  what  they  wanted. 


WHO    HAD   THE  WILL  245 

"May  I  ask,'  says  I,  'what  ye're  looking  for;  and 
maybe  I  can  help  ye,  for  I've  no  time  to  lose.' 

" '  We're  looking  for  a  will,  a  forged  will,'  said  one. 

" '  I've  no  forged  will,'  said  I,  'nor  ever  did  have,  and 
if  ye're  looking  for  the  will  of  old  man  Muirhead,  ye  can 
spare  yerself  the  trouble,  for  you're  too  late  by  three 
days.  It's  in  the  magistrate's  hands  by  this  time,  and 
I'm  glad  of  it.'  Then  one  of  them  hit  me  a  lick,  and 
told  me  not  to  be  so  free  with  my  opinions.  'Ye  said 
ye  were  going  to  Maxwell's,'  he  said. 

"  '  I  did,'  said  I. 

" '  Then  how  can  ye  have  placed  it  in  the  hands  of  the 
law  ? '  says  he.  '  Because,'  I  gave  him  answer,  '  I've 
already  come  from  Maxwell's  this  morning,  and  had 
but  turned  to  go  back  for  a  bit  of  something  I  forgot.' 
The  man  gave  a  kick.  'You're  a  deceitful,  lyin'  fool,' 
said  he. 

"  I  reminded  him  what  the  Bible  says  of  them  that  call 
others  fools,  but  he  glowered  at  me  and  says,  '  I  don't 
half  believe  ye.  We  know  ye  did  have  the  will,  for 
Park  Willett  was  seen  to  give  it  to  ye  down  by  Locke's 
ford.' 

'"Whatever  Park  Willett's  given  me,'  I  said,  'I've 
not  now,  and  I'll  never  have  again,  so  you'll  let  me  up 
and  I'll  go  on.'  With  that  the  one  that  did  the  most 
talking  gave  me  another  kick,  and  if  I  ever  get  my  two 
hands  on  him,  the  lambastin'  I'll  give  him  —  " 

There  were  growls  of  approval  from  David's  friends, 


246  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

but  the  minister's  voice  came  in :  "  Go  on,  David. 
'  Vengeance  is  mine,  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord ! ' ' 

David  composed  himself,  and  went  on  with  his  story. 
"'To-morrow  is  my  wedding-day,  men,'  said  I,  'and  you'll 
let  me  up  or  the  country  won't  be  big  enough  for  ye 
when  I'm  free,'  but  they  only  laughed  at  me,  and  first 
thing  I  knew  I  was  alone,  not  able  to  move  hand  or 
foot,  and  they'd  gone  from  sight." 

A  dozen  hands  sought  their  hunting-knives  in  their 
excitement.  "  Who  were  the  men  ?  Did  ye  ever  see 
them  before  ? "  said  one.  "We'll  settle  their  hash  once 
we  find  them." 

"  I  never  saw  them  before,  and  I  want  to  see  them 
just  once  again,"  returned  David. 

"  But  how  did  you  get  away  ? "  came  the  question 
from  half  a  dozen. 

"  I  lay  there  till  nearly  dawn  this  morning,  working 
at  the  straps  that  bound  me ;  finally  I  managed  to  get 
the  leg  straps  loose  and  got  to  my  feet.  My  horse  was 
willing  enough  to  be  caught  and  to  follow  me  to  Max- 
well's, for  I  was  that  stiff  I  could  not  mount  him."  He 
did  not  say  with  what  effort  the  walk  was  made  after 
the  long  restraint.  "  There  I  got  my  hands  freed,  had 
some  breakfast,  fed  my  horse,  and  started  for  home  as 
hard  as  I  could  gallop.  If  Donald  had  dropped,  I 
would  have  footed  it,  but  he  held  out,  and  here  I  am." 

It  was  the  longest  speech  David  had  ever  made,  and 
it  made  its  impression,  following  so  closely  as  it  did 


WHO   HAD  THE   WILL  247 

upon  Parker's  adventure.  The  indignation  of  the  men 
was  roused  to  the  uttermost.  "We'll  h'ist  Hump;  he's 
got  to  get  out  of  here;  it's  all  his  doings,"  they  cried. 
"  It'll  be  too  hot  for  him,  he'll  find.  Those  men  wanted 
to  get  a  chance  to  make  tracks  was  why  they  left  ye 
there  alone,  David ;  they  didn't  want  ye  to  trace  'em." 

Parker  made  his  way  over  to  Agnes.  "  It  was  David 
I  gave  the  will  to,  I  remember  all  about  it ;  it  all  came 
back  to  me  as  soon  as  he  began  his  story.  I  remember 
that,  as  I  was  passing  Locke's  ford,  he  came  by  and  told 
me  he  was  going  to  Marietta ;  it  struck  me  that  here  was 
a  chance  to  send  the  will,  and  that  I  could  not  have  a 
safer  messenger.  So  I  concluded  that  I  would  make 
a  copy  and  show  that  to  Hump  Muirhead.  I  had  a  bit 
of  paper  with  me  that  I  could  use,  and  the  writing  of  it 
did  not  take  a  moment.  I  put  it  in  the  sliding  panel  of 
the  little  box  for  safe-keeping.  Have  you  looked  to  see 
if  there  is  anything  there  ? " 

"  No,"  Agnes  replied  ;  "  I  supposed  it  was  empty.  I 
am  so  sorry  for  poor  David  ;  he  has  had  a  deal  of  worri- 
ment.  What  a  lot  of  trouble  that  will  has  made  !  " 

"So  much  the  better,  for  it  will  prove  its  genuine- 
ness. Nobody  would  make  such  a  fuss  over  a  worthless 
piece  of  paper,  and  it  is  evident  that  Hump  Muirhead 
considers  it  important.  I  am  glad  that  it  is  in  proper 
hands  and  that  your  interests  are  secure.  Hump 
Muirhead  could  not  have  chosen  a  surer  way  to  rid 
the  settlement  of  his  very  undesirable  self,  for  not  one 


248  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

of  these  men  will  stand  such  outrages,  and  we  will  hunt 
him  out  of  the  neighborhood." 

"  He  deserves  it,"  Agnes  replied.  "  Poor  Jeanie  !  it 
was  so  dreadful  to  have  her  wedding-day  so  nearly  a 
day  of  grief  and  sorrow.  If  David  had  not  been  able 
to  free  himself,  he  might  still  have  been  lying  there, 
and  have  died  of  cold  and  hunger ;  that  is  terrible  to 
think  of." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  dinner  was  ready  and  a  mighty 
feast  it  was.  The  plain  table  of  hewn  boards  bore  no 
fine  damask,  but  it  held  a  plentiful  supply  of  roast 
pork,  venison,  and  wild  turkey ;  game  pies  were  flanked 
by  plenty  of  potatoes  and  hominy,  and  there  were  pud- 
dings, pies,  and  preserves  to  end  up  with,  so  that  the 
company  arose  well  satisfied,  keen  as  their  appetites 
were. 

There  followed  a  boisterous  scene,  when  every  one 
seemed  to  make  an  effort  to  be  as  noisy  as  possible 
and  to  outdo  his  neighbor  in  merry-making.  In  the 
lively  games  Polly  was  usually  leader,  and  her  jokes 
and  quips  evoked  the  heartiest  laughter.  She  seemed 
determined  that  the  discomfort  of  the  early  part  of  the 
day  should  be  lost  in  rollicking  fun,  and  that  the  wed- 
ding should  be  remembered  as  the  gayest  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. When  the  fun  became  too  fast  and  furious, 
Agnes  sought  her  mother's  side,  and  after  a  while 
Parker  Willett  made  his  way  over  to  where  the  two 
were  sitting.  "It  is  a  lively  scene,"  he  remarked  to 


WHO   HAD  THE  WILL  249 

Mrs.  Kennedy.  "  I  don't  suppose  you  ever  saw  any- 
thing just  like  it  before." 

"  Not  just  like  it,  although  we  have  had  some  noisy 
times  at  weddings  in  our  own  neighborhood,  but  there 
is  a  mixture  here  of  our  own  customs  and  of  those  of 
the  backwoodsmen." 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock  that  Polly  came  up  and 
whispered  to  Mrs.  Kennedy,  "  Where  has  Agnes 
gone  ? " 

Mrs  Kennedy  smiled.  "  She  has  slipped  off  to  join 
the  girls  who  are  stealing  the  bride  away  to  her  room. 
Did  you  want  her  specially,  Polly  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ;  I  did  but  think  to  ask  her  to  have  an  eye 
on  the  babies  when  she  has  a  chance." 

"  I  looked  in  upon  them  not  long  ago  and  they  were 
all  asleep,  sound  enough,  in  spite  of  the  noise.  I  sup- 
pose," she  turned  to  Park  Willett  as  Polly  walked  away 
satisfied,  "  that  we  shall  have  a  repetition  of  this  at  the 
housewarming." 

"  Yes,  it  is  much  the  same  thing  at  all  the  festivities. 
It  was  a  curious  thing  about  the  will,  Mrs.  Kennedy.  I 
suppose  the  court  will  appoint  an  executor,  but  it  will 
be  some  time  before  you  gain  possession  of  your  prop- 
erty, unless  the  friends  of  David  succeed  in  running 
the  present  occupant  off." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  his  wife  and  children,"  Mrs.  Ken- 
nedy returned  sorrowfully. 

"  They  are  the  only  ones  to  be  pitied,  but  the  chil- 


250  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

dren  will  not  be  long  in  adopting  a  new  home,  and  Mrs. 
Muirhead  could  not  be  much  lonelier  or  much  harder 
worked  than  she  is  now." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  her  and  the  children." 

"  I  will  tell  her ;  she  seems  greatly  pleased  by  any 
notice  taken  of  her  or  the  children.  Your  husband 
tells-  me  that  you  are  putting  up  two  more  rooms." 

"  Yes,  he  and  Jimmy  are  working  hard  over  the  addi- 
tion. It  will  be  much  more  comfortable;  the  space 
is  too  small  for  two  families." 

"  Your  husband  improves.  Your  coming  did  him 
good." 

"Do  you  think  so?"  Mrs.  Kennedy  was  wistful. 
"  I  have  hoped  against  hope,  yet  I  do  think  there  is  a 
little  change  for  the  better.  He  seems  to  notice  little 
things  more  than  he  did,  and  has  become  very  fond  of 
the  baby  whom  he  at  last  accepts  as  our  own.  I  think 
it  is  good  for  him  to  have  youth  and  brightness  about 
him.  The  children  do  not  seem  to  trouble  him,  and  I 
see  him  and  the  boys  carrying  on  long  conversations 
together." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that ;  it  promises  well."  He 
suddenly  stopped  speaking,  and  Mrs.  Kennedy  saw 
that  he  had  caught  sight  of  Agnes,  who  had  just  re- 
appeared with  a  bevy  of  girls.  She  noticed  that  Agnes 
met  his  glance  and  that  a  soft  flush  flew  to  the  girl's 
cheek. 

"  One  wedding  often  follows  another.     Example  is 


WHO   HAD   THE  WILL  2$  I 

a  great  thing,"  said  a  voice  at  her  side.  "  I  suppose,  Mrs. 
Kennedy,  that  your  little  lass  will  soon  be  leaving  you." 

"  Scarcely  yet,"  replied  the  mother.  "  I  hope  I  shall 
keep  her  by  me  for  many  a  day,  Mrs.  Scott." 

"It's  Archie  M'Clean,  they  say,"  ventured  Mrs. 
Scott,  "  though  for  my  part,  I  think  it  will  be  some  one 
else."  She  gave  a  comprehensive  nod  toward  the  young 
man  standing  near  Mrs.  Kennedy. 

"  Marriage  is  not  in  the  mind  of  my  lassie,"  Mrs. 
Kennedy  returned  with  some  dignity.  "  She  has  been 
away  from  her  mother  for  so  long  that  she  is  content  to 
bide  at  home  with  her  now."  Agnes  now  rejoined  her 
mother  who  shared  her  stool  with  her.  Seats  were 
scarce,  and  many  of  the  lads  thought  it  no  discourtesy 
to  offer  their  laps  for  the  convenience  of  the  lassies,  and 
the  offer  was  taken  in  good  part  and  generally  accepted. 
Agnes  preferred  to  share  her  mother's  three-legged 
stool,  and  sat  there  contentedly. 

"  Are  you  dull,  dear  mother  ? "  she  whispered. 

"  No,  I  am  vastly  entertained.  This  exhibit  of  back- 
woods manners  amuses  me  greatly ;  it  is  quite  beyond 
my  comprehension,  yet  they  are  all  good  people.  I 
thought  we  at  home  were  far  removed  from  city  ways, 
but  this  is  surprising."  She  found  herself  turning  to 
Parker  Willett.  "  It  is  strange  what  a  press  of  neces- 
sity will  bring  about,  and  how  soon  one  becomes  used  to 
things  which  at  first  seem  shocking.  I  doubt  not  another 
generation  will  forget  gentle  ways  entirely." 


252  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  Another  and  some  succeeding  ones,  but  as  the  popu- 
lation increases  more  gentleness  will  leaven  society  out 
here.  Ceremonies  come  to  be  useless  things  where  one 
must  battle  with  the  conditions  which  exist  in  a  new 
settlement;  there  is  not  time  for  them.  Yet  when  one 
considers  that  we  are  not  the  real  pioneers  and  what 
risks  were  run  by  those  first  intrepid  leaders,  and  what 
privations  they  endured,  ours  of  fifty  years  later  seems  a 
great  gain.  We  have  escaped  those  bloody  wars  that 
the  advance-guard  fought  for  us,  and  feel  that  we  have 
been  outdone  in  courage  by  those  who  first  dared  to 
cross  the  mountains  to  open  up  this  Western  Range." 

"  My  father  was  one  of  them,"  said  Mrs.  Kennedy, 
sadly. 

"  Yes,  and  we  should  be  proud  of  him.  You  should 
hold  up  your  head  at  being  the  daughter  of  so  brave  a 
pioneer.  Putnam's  colony  —  those  sturdy  New  Eng- 
landers  —  seems  to  be  doing  well;  they  put  a  deal  of  en- 
ergy into  what  they  do,  and  are  developing  the  country 
wonderfully ;  the  Muskingum  colony  thrives  and  we 
shall  soon  be  no  longer  in  a  wilderness,  Mrs.  Kennedy." 

"  You  say  that  for  encouragement." 

"  No,  I  say  it  from  my  own  conviction.  Are  you 
tired  of  all  this  ?  Would  you  like  to  slip  off  into  a 
quieter  place  ?  We  can't  go  home  till  morning,  you 
know,  and  they  will  keep  this  up  till  daybreak.  I  will 
make  way  for  you,  if  you  care  to  go  somewhere  else." 
He  shouldered  his  way  past  the  merrymakers,  and 


WHO   HAD   THE  WILL  253 

Agnes  followed.  They  passed  out  into  the  lean-to,  and 
from  thence  into  one  of  the  outbuildings  where  stood 
the  loom,  and  which  was  known  as  the  weaving  room. 
"I  discovered  this  safe  retreat  some  time  ago,"  said  Parker. 
"  I  know  where  there  is  a  pile  of  sheepskins  ;  I  will  get 
some,  and  you  two  can  lie  down  and  take  a  rest."  He 
disappeared  and  soon  returned  with  the  skins  which  he 
threw  on  the  floor.  There  was  no  light  in  the  room 
save  such  as  came  from  the  moonlight  which  shone 
through  the  small  window,  but  it  was  not  needed  by  the 
mother  and  daughter  who  lay  down  side  by  side,  glad 
of  an  opportunity  of  taking  a  longed-for  rest,  while  Parker 
locked  the  door  on  them. 

Sandy  and  the  other  boys  of  his  size  had  taken  refuge 
in  the  stable  ;  the  smaller  children  were  huddled  to- 
gether in  one  of  the  rooms  indoors,  for  their  mothers 
were  obliged  to  bring  them  or  to  stay  at  home  from  the 
wedding,  a  thing  not  to  be  thought  of. 

Up  and  down  in  the  moonlight  paced  Parker,  keeping 
watch  while  Agnes  and  her  mother  slept.  It  was 
against  all  custom  to  allow  any  one  to  escape  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  a  nap,  and  he  knew  that  the  two 
would  be  hunted  up  as  soon  as  they  were  missed,  but  he 
determined  that  they  should  not  be  disturbed  if  he  could 
help  it,  and  when  a  mischievous  searcher  came  prowling 
around,  he  succeeded  in  eluding  detection  till  they  had 
tried  the  door  and,  rinding  it  fast,  had  returned  to  the 
house. 


254  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

At  early  dawn  the  sound  of  the  boisterous  fun  was 
still  to  be  heard,  but  with  the  daylight,  the  procession 
was  ready  to  form  again,  and  the  revellers  returned  to 
their  several  homes.  David's  prolonged  absence  had 
prevented  the  putting  of  his  cabin  in  complete  order  for 
his  bride,  but  the  housewarming  was  soon  to  be,  and 
the  day  after  it  Jeanie  would  move  to  her  new  home. 

Polly,  jaded  and  fagged  out,  could  do  nothing  but 
sleep  the  day  after  the  wedding,  and,  indeed,  there 
were  few  in  the  community  who  felt  like  attending  with 
much  spirit  to  their  accustomed  duties,  and  only  the 
older  people,  who  had  been  excused  from  sitting  up  all 
night,  were  feeling  bright  and  fresh. 

"  We  are  lucky  in  not  having  two  or  three  days  of  it," 
said  Parker,  as  he  parted  with  Agnes  and  her  mother ; 
"  we're  let  off  well  this  time,  because  of  the  M'Cleans' 
desire  in  the  matter,  but  if  you  ever  go  to  Jerry  Hun- 
ter's wedding,  for  instance,  I  promise  you  that  the  frolic 
will  keep  up  for  nearly  a  week.  We  don't  often  get  a 
chance  to  do  this  sort  of  thing,  and  when  we  do,  it  seems 
as  if  we  didn't  know  when  to  stop.  You  will  not  for- 
get, all  of  you,  that  you  are  to  come  over  and  have  sup- 
per with  me  as  soon  as  my  place  is  in  order,  so  hold 
yourselves  in  readiness." 

"  Don't  go  till  you  have  looked  at  the  little  box,"  said 
Agnes,  as  he  was  departing. 

"  I  will  wait  for  you  under  the  sycamore,"  he  said,  as 
she  ran  in  to  get  it. 


WHO   HAD  THE  WILL  255 

The  girl  was  not  slow  in  returning  and  in  giving  the 
box  into  Parker's  hands.  He  touched  the  spring  and 
the  panel  slid  back ;  the  compartment  was  empty. 
"  Humph !  "  exclaimed  Parker.  "  I  wonder  what  that 
means !  What  will  Hump  Muirhead  be  up  to  next  ?  " 
He  shut  the  slide  thoughtfully  and  handed  the  box  back 
to  Agnes,  but  there  was  a  puzzled  look  on  his  face. 
"  Some  one  found  that  copy  of  the  will.  I  wonder  who. 
We  must  find  out,  though  it  is  really  of  no  consequence 
now,  since  the  true  one  is  safe.  Now  that  they  are 
both  out  of  our  possession,  we  ought  to  expect  no  more 
trouble.  I  think  I'll  hunt  up  Hump  and  hear  what  he 
has  to  say.  He  evidently  set  those  men  on  David's 
track,  although  I  don't  see  why  he  thought  David  had 
the  will  if  I  had  it.  The  plot  thickens.  I'll  talk  to  Dod 
about  it,  but  don't  bother  your  head  over  it,  little  girl, 
for  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  wait  till  you  are  free  to 
move  into  your  own  home.  If  I  learn  anything  of  im- 
portance, I'll  let  you  know."  He  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  off,  a  thoughtful  look  upon  his  face. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

A  SUPPER  AT   PARKER   WILLETTS 

THE  summer  had  come  upon  them  before  Parker 
was  ready  to  issue  his  invitation  for  his  friends  to 
come  to  take  supper  with  him  in  his  little  shanty,  for 
being  very  comfortable  at  Dod  Hunter's,  and  being  in 
no  hurry  to  exchange  hearty,  cheerful  society  for  utter 
loneliness,  the  young  man  set  to  work  to  prepare  his 
garden  and  plant  his  corn-field  before  he  should  occupy 
his  cabin.  Agnes  had  seen  him  but  once  or  twice  since 
the  wedding,  but  she  had  little  time  to  fret  over  it,  for 
with  so  many  little  mouths  to  feed  there  was  plenty  for 
her  to  do,  and  she  was  too  weary  at  night  to  lie  awake 
long  indulging  in  girlish  dreams.  Dod  Hunter,  as 
nearest  neighbor  and  oldest  friend  of  Mrs.  Kennedy's 
father,  had  been  appointed  executor,  and  probably  no 
better  choice  could  have  been  made.  The  disappear- 
ance of  the  copy  of  the  will  still  remained  a  mystery 
over  which  all  interested  were'  puzzled. 

It  was  June  before  Parker  appeared  to  bid  his  friends 
to  his  modest  attempt  at  a  housewarming.  "This  is 
to  be  strictly  a  party  for  ladies,"  he  said,  laughing,  to 

256 


A  SUPPER  AT  PARKER  WILLETTS  257 

Jimmy  O'Neill,  "  and  when  I  set  up  for  a  householder 
and  a  benedict,  I'll  have  a  real  housewarming.  My  one 
room  will  hardly  accommodate  all  my  friends." 

"  Fergus  and  me'll  stay  at  home  and  look  after  the 
young  uns,"  Jimmy  agreed  cheerfully,  "an*  let  the 
women  folk  have  their  frolic.  But  ye'll  be  enlargin' 
yer  borders  an'  takin'  a  wife  before  a  year,"  he  added 
with  a  sly  smile.  "  Have  ye  heerd  no  more  o'  Hump 
Muirhead  ? " 

"  Not  I ;  he  hasn't  troubled  me  and  I  haven't  troubled 
him.  Dod  assured  me  that  he  was  able  to  attend  to  his 
business  as  executor,  and  I  therefore  gracefully  retired 
from  the  case.  Of  course  the  court  will  give  him  a 
reasonable  time  to  get  out,  and  though  he's  no  coward 
in  most  directions,  he's  well  aware  of  the  attitude  of  the 
neighbors  toward  him  and  he'll  not  be  swaggering 
around  much.  You  and  Mr.  Kennedy  will  be  coming 
over  to  my  clearing,  Jimmy,  and  I'll  promise  you  as  fine 
a  johnny-cake  as  you  ever  ate  at  home." 

"We'll  come,"  Jimmy  answered,  "after  the  women 
folk  have  had  their  time.  Ay  lad,  but  it's  buildin'  up 
the  country  is  since  the  Injuns  have  come  to  terms,  and 
we've  the  treaty  of  Greenville.  The  Range  is  fillin'  up, 
the  Reserve  north  av  us  is  like  to  see  good  times,  and 
the  Ohio  Company  south  is  runnin'  'em  close.  We  are 
in  the  thick  av  the  immigration.  I  heerd,  the  time  I 
went  up  to  Marietta,  that  nigh  twenty  thousand  had 
come  along  in  the  past  year,  and  it's  towns  they'll  be 
s 


258  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

showin'  soon.  Look  at  Marietta  with  her  streets  an' 
her  churches  an'  a  flock  o'  people  roamin'  about.  We've 
got  close  to  ceevilization,  Mr.  Willett.  No  more  standin' 
wid  a  musket  in  wan  hand  whilst  ye  plant  yer  corn  wid 
the  other." 

"  That's  all  very  true,  Jimmy ;  I  am  impressed  by  it 
every  time  I  come  this  way.  I  realize  that  our  own  little 
township  is  growing  by  the  number  of  new  faces  I  meet 
on  the  road." 

"Thrue  for  ye.  Weel,  'it  takes  nae  butter  off  my 
bannock'  to  have  them  comin,'  for  they  open  up  the  coun- 
try, and  the  more  the  merrier."  He  turned  back  to  his 
forge,  and  Parker  walked  toward  the  house  where  he 
found  Mrs.  Kennedy  busily  sewing.  Agnes  was  help- 
ing Polly  at  the  dye-kettle ;  Margret,  with  the  children 
around  her,  was  playing  school  under  the  trees.  Mr. 
Kennedy  was  at  work  in  the  garden,  for,  though  this 
was  considered  the  women's  province,  since  Jimmy's 
arrival  it  had  fallen  to  Fergus's  share. 

It  was  a  pleasant,  busy  scene  and  showed  thrift  and 
content  and  peace.  In  a  sty  back  of  the  house  grunted 
a  sow  and  her  young  pigs ;  Agnes's  chickens  crooned 
their  sleepy  song  with  much  content  among  the  dust- 
heaps  which  they  sought  out ;  a  swarm  of  wild  bees 
which  Polly  had  hived,  now  quite  at  home,  were  dron- 
ing about  the  garden  beds.  Two  new  rooms  having 
been  added,  one  above  and  one  below,  there  was  now 
sufficient  space  to  house  the  two  families  comfortably. 


A   SUPPER  AT   PARKER   WILLETTS  259 

Jimmy  had  set  up  his  forge  and  the  place  was  fre- 
quented by  those  neighbors  who  had  not  a  like  con- 
venience upon  their  own  clearings,  and  it  was  quite  a 
gathering-place  for  news-gatherers,  though  the  clearings 
lay  closer  together  around  the  little  log  church. 

Mrs.  Kennedy  looked  up  with  a  smiling  welcome, 
but  she  did  not  stop  her  swift  stitches.  "  Good  morn- 
ing, stranger,"  she  said. 

"  I  am  something  of  a  stranger,"  the  young  man 
replied,  coming  in,  "  but  it  is  not  of  choice  that  I  am 
so,  Mrs.  Kennedy.  I  have  come  over  to  ask  if  you 
and  Polly  and  Agnes  will  honor  my  little  cabin  this 
afternoon  and  take  that  long-promised  supper  with  me. 
Jimmy  says  he  and  your  husband  will  look  after  the 
children." 

"Yes?  That  is  kind  of  Jimmy.  They  will  be 
no  trouble,  however,  for  they  are  always  good  with 
Margret." 

"Where  is  Polly?" 

"  She  and  Agnes  are  at  the  dye-kettle.  It  seemed 
a  fine  day  for  the  work.  They  are  around  at  the  back 
of  the  house." 

"  I  think  I  could  find  them  without  trouble,"  said 
Parker,  smiling,  as  Polly's  laugh  smote  his  ear.  Polly 
was  always  merry  over  the  dye-kettle.  "You'll  come 
this  evening,  Mrs.  Kennedy  ?  " 

"  Gladly.    I  have  never  crossed  the  river,  you  know." 

"  It  is  not  much  of  a  journey  if  one  rows  over  from 


260  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

this  side ;  sometimes,  though,  I  find  it  easier  to  come 
by  the  ford.  I  think  if  you  row  over  and  I  meet  you 
with  horses  on  the  other  side,  it  will  be  the  best  way. 
It  will  be  bright  moonlight  coming  back,  and  you  need 
not  be  afraid  even  if  you  do  hear  uncanny  noises." 

"  I  shall  know  what  they  are.  I  am  getting  quite 
used  to  the  sound  of  wolves  and  wildcats." 

"  I  will  go  and  make  my  request  to  Polly,  then." 

Guided  by  the  peals  of  laughter,  Parker  took  his  way 
toward  the  back  of  the  house  where  Polly  was  chasing 
Agnes  around  with  threatening  blued  hands.  "  Once 
I  get  me  hands  on  that  red  poll,  I'll  make  it  purple,'* 
she  was  crying,  and  Agnes  was  laughingly  defying 
her  with  the  big  stick  she  had  been  using  to  stir  the 
dye. 

"  I  will  surely  give  you  a  taste  of  this,  Polly,  if  you 
come  a  step  nearer,"  she  was  saying. 

"You  romping  children,"  cried  Parker.  "Will  you 
cease  your  play  for  a  moment  and  speak  to  me  ? " 

Polly  advanced  holding  out  her  blue-stained  hand. 
"  I'll  be  glad  to  shake  hands  with  ye,  Mr.  Willett,"  she 
declared,  and  laughed  with  glee  as  he  backed  off. 

"  Polly  is  so  reckless,  and  she  calls  my  hair  red,  Mr. 
Willett,"  Agnes  complained. 

"  It's  nearer  that  than  anything  else ;  ye  wouldn't 
call  it  black,  would  ye?"  Polly  asked. 

"  No,  but  mother  calls  it  auburn,  and  that  has  a  nice 
sound." 


A  SUPPER  AT   PARKER  WILLETTS  261 

"  Go  'long  wid  ye,"  cried  Polly,  "  wid  yer  fancy 
names.  Weel,  Mr.  Willett,  yer  no  fashin'  yersel'  about 
us,  these  days,  it's  clear." 

"  It's  not  what  one  desires  in  this  world,  but  what  he 
finds  time  to  do,  Polly.  To  prove  that  I've  been  think- 
ing of  you  I  have  come  over  to  ask  you  all  to  sup  with 
me." 

Polly  looked  at  her  stained  hands.  "They're  a 
pretty  looking  pair  for  a  party,"  she  declared. 

"  It's  no  party ;  it  is  only  for  a  very  select  and  chosen 
few  —  yourself,  Mrs.  Kennedy,  and  Agnes.  Will  the 
dyeing  be  finished  in  time  for  you  to  come  over  this 
afternoon  ? " 

"Why  will  it  not?  I'll  stop  now."  She  lifted  the 
boiling  dye  from  the  fire,  and  with  two  sticks  raised  the 
pieces  of  cloth  from  the  hot  liquid,  flinging  them  into 
a  tub  near  by.  "  They're  weel  enow  colored,"  she  de- 
cided, "and  I'll  finish  up  gin  dinner-time.  I've  no 
gloves,  Mr.  Willett,  an*  I'll  not  get  back  the  color  of  me 
hands  afore  the  week's  out.  Gin  Sabbath  day  they 
beeta  look  better.  Will  ye  have  me  so  ?  I  can  never 
do  a  bit  of  dyeing,  but  I  must  give  me  hands  the  color 
of  me  goods,  be  it  butternut,  blue,  or  yellow.  Agnes, 
there,  gets  but  the  tips  of  her  fingers  in,  and  is  nigh 
greetin'  at  that,  so  I  threatened  to  give  her  hair  the 
same  color." 

"  Be  done,  Polly,"  cried  Agnes,  as  Polly  advanced 
upon  her  again,  "  I'll  not  help  you  with  the  dyeing  if 


262  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

you  treat  me  so.  Do  be  quiet  If  you  stop  now,  when 
will  I  get  my  linen  dyed  ? " 

"You'll  get  it  gin  Tibb's  eve,"  returned  Polly,  "if  ye 
fa'  out  wi'  me  now." 

"  Ah,  but  Polly  —  " 

"Go  long  into  the  house  wid  ye,  ye  two,  an'  I'll 
finish  up.  Ye  might  be  gittin'  the  vegetables  for  din- 
ner, Nancy,  an'  I'll  come  make  a  puddin'.  I  beeta  be 
makin'  one  in  honor  of  the  stranger." 

"  You'd  better  not  be  giving  me  too  good  a  dinner," 
said  Parker,  "or  you'll  be  putting  my  supper  to  shame." 

"No  fear  o'  that.  In  wid  ye."  She  brandished  her 
stick,  and  the  two  departed  to  the  garden  to  gather  such 
early  vegetables  as  they  might  find  ready  for  use. 

"  It's  been  a  long  time  since  I  saw  you,"  said  Parker, 
speaking  his  thought. 

"  Yes  ? "  Agnes  was  well  aware  of  it,  and  was  dis- 
posed to  be  a  little  distant  in  consequence,  though  she 
well  knew  his  reason  for  absenting  himself.  "  I  have 
been  busy,  too,  and  I  have  been  two  or  three  times  to 
see  Jeanie.  The  last  mail  brought  good  news  from 
Archie ;  he  is  hard  at  work  and  hopes  by  diligence  to 
complete  his  course  in  a  less  time  than  we  at  first 
thought  he  could.  He  wrote  me  quite  a  long  letter; 
he  really  can  write  more  freely  than  he  can  talk."  She 
looked  serenely  unconscious  as  Parker  stole  a  glance  at 
her. 

"  I  suppose  you  were  delighted  to  hear  from  him  ? " 


PARKER  WATCHED   HER   FOR  A  FEW   MINUTES,    NOT    ATTEMPTING  TO   HELP. 


A  SUPPER  AT  PARKER  WILLETTS     263 

"  Oh,  yes.  Who  wouldn't  be  glad  to  hear  from  an 
old  friend  ?  You  would  be,  wouldn't  you,  to  hear  from 
Alicia,  for  example  ? " 

"  Agnes  !  "  His  voice  was  reproachful.  "  I  didn't 
think  you  were  a  coquette." 

The  flush  which  dyed  Agnes's  cheek  was  caused  by 
both  wrath  and  contrition.  "  I  don't  see  what  cause 
you  have  to  say  that,"  she  replied  lightly.  "  You  know 
perfectly  well  how  it  is  with  Archie  and  me.  I  shall 
probably  marry  him  if  I  find  no  one  more  likable  before 
he  returns." 

"  More  likable  ?  No,  I  didn't  know  that.  You  didn't 
tell  me  before.  And  Archie  is  very  likable  ? " 

"  Yes,  very ;  and  so  good  and  constant  and  thoughtful 
of  pleasing  me.  He  never  neglected  me  in  his  life." 

"  You  have  a  very  good  opinion  of  him." 

"There  is  no  one  quite  like  Archie."  Agnes  was 
picking  her  peas  without  proper  regard  to  the  fulness 
of  their  pods,  her  blue-tipped  fingers  slipping  in  and  out 
among  the  vines  swiftly.  Parker  watched  her  for  a  few 
minutes,  not  attempting  to  help.  When  he  spoke  again, 
it  was  in  a  constrained  tone.  "  Shall  you  care  to  come 
over  with  your  mother  and  Polly  to  sup  with  me  ? " 

Agnes's  heart  had  leaped  at  the  prospect,  but  she 
said  indifferently :  "  Oh,  yes,  I'd  enjoy  going  anywhere 
with  mother.  There,  I  think  I  have  enough  of  these. 
I  must  take  them  in  and  shell  them."  She  picked  up 
her  rudely  made  basket,  but  Parker  took  it  from  her,  as 


264  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

a  matter  of  course.  He  was  singularly  silent,  and  the 
tears  smarted  in  Agnes's  eyes.  Why  had  she  been  so 
contrary  ?  What  had  possessed  her  to  mislead  him  ? 
The  beautiful  bright  summer  day  would  be  spoiled 
because  of  her  unreasonableness.  But  she  was  too 
proud  to  alter  the  state  of  things  by  making  advances, 
and  they  entered  the  house  with  no  attempt  on  either 
side  toward  a  better  understanding,  and  neither  one  was 
in  a  very  happy  frame  of  mind. 

Polly  had  left  her  dye-kettle  and  was  deep  in  the 
mystery  of  the  pudding  she  had  promised  to  make. 
Agnes  called  on  the  children  to  shell  the  peas,  and  gave 
her  own  attention  to  some  other  things.  Mrs.  Kennedy, 
meanwhile,  was  preparing  a  pair  of  fowls,  and  Parker 
left  them  in  the  midst  of  their  dinner-getting  and 
strolled  down  to  the  forge.  Agnes  saw  him  depart. 
Why  had  things  gone  wrong  ?  They  might  now  have 
been  sitting  together  over  the  basket  of  peas  in  happy 
converse.  They  had  often  shared  such  a  piece  of  work. 
It  did  not  add  to  her  comfort  to  be  aware  that  it  was  all 
her  own  fault.  The  unusually  sumptuous  dinner  meant 
nothing  to  her,  and  she  scarcely  touched  it. 

"  Nancy  is  saving  up  her  appetite  for  this  evening," 
said  Polly,  laughing.  "  You'd  better  not  be  too  sure  of 
what  you'll  get  at  a  bachelor's,  Nancy." 

Parker  smiled.  "  I  can't  promise  you  such  a  feast 
as  this,  Polly,  though  you  know  you  are  pledged  to  do 
the  cooking.  I  can  make  good  corn-pone  and  hoe-cake, 


A   SUPPER  AT   PARKER  WILLETTS  265 

and  I  can  cook  a  fish  or  a  bit  of  bacon,  but  I  am  not 
very  skilful,  I  warn  you." 

"It  seems  like  old  times  to  see  him  settin'  there," 
said  Polly.  "  I  declare,  Park,  I  never  knew  how  much 
I  missed  ye  till  I  see  ye  back  agen." 

"That  is  certainly  complimentary,  and  I  appreciate 
it.  I  am  being  treated  with  the  fat  of  the  land.  I  am 
afraid  from  the  spread  you  have  here  that  you  have 
robbed  the  family  of  a  week's  provender ;  you  know  I 
am  very  well  acquainted  with  the  resources  of  the 
place." 

"  Ah  but,  '  it's  nae  loss  what  ye  gie  a  freen','  as  the 
old  saying  is,  and  ye  need  think  nae  more  of  it."  Polly 
was  in  high  spirits.  The  prospect  of  any  kind  of  frolic 
always  put  her  in  the  best  of  humors. 

The  dinner  over,  Parker  took  his  departure,  and  his 
invited  guests  set  out  in  due  time  to  meet  him  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river.  The  days  were  now  so  long 
that  there  was  no  fear  of  their  being  belated  in  getting 
back,  and  a  short  stay  was  not  to  be  thought  of  when 
one  went  out  to  supper ;  it  meant  the  whole  afternoon 
and  the  evening  too,  if  possible.  Polly  was  full  of  her 
quips  and  jokes,  and  pulled  lustily  across  the  stream, 
but  she  sobered  down  when  she  got  across.  "Ye'll 
not  be  far  from  yer  ain,  Mrs.  Kennedy,"  she  said,  "for 
Parker's  got  the  land  next  yer  father's,  an'  ye'll  be  seein* 
what  it's  like.  I'll  be  bound  Hump  '11  look  glum  as  a 
mustard-pot  when  he  gets  his  summons  to  quit.  I'll 


266  A  GENTLE    PIONEER 

miss  ye  all,  but  I'll  be  glad  when  ye  come  to  yer  am. 
Here  we  are  and  here's  Park." 

Parker  came  forward  with  two  horses.  "  How  shall 
we  travel?"  he  asked.  "Shall  I  take  you,  Mrs. 
Kennedy  ? " 

But  Polly  spoke  up.  "  I've  bespoke  her,  and  ye'll  be 
takin'  Agnes.  Come,  Mrs.  Kennedy,  up  behind  me," 
and  Agnes  found  herself  starting  off  with  Parker,  her 
arm  about  his  waist. 

The  way  was  not  very  long,  and  it  should  have  been 
rarely  pleasant  to  be  riding  through  the  leafy  woods 
this  summer  afternoon,  tall  trees  about  them,  and  the 
air  sweet  with  the  smell  of  the  grape  blossoms,  yet  it 
was  Polly  who  did  most  of  the  talking.  Parker  rarely 
spoke.  Once  his  hand  touched  Agnes's  fingers,  resting 
lightly  upon  his  belt,  but  he  withdrew  from  the  contact 
as  if  it  hurt  him.  It  was  of  the  most  indifferent  things 
that  the  two  young  persons  spoke,  when  they  spoke  at 
all,  and  the  girl  felt  that  she  would  have  been  happier 
with  Polly  or  her  mother. 

Before  the  door  of  the  small  cabin  the  horses  at  last 
stopped.  The  woods  came  close  about  the  small  dwell- 
ing, for  it  takes  time  to  fell  trees,  and  though  the  clear- 
ing for  the  corn-field  and  the  garden  had  been  made, 
the  space  seemed  small  in  the  midst  of  the  limitless 
forest,  and  so  small,  so  lonely  seemed  the  little  cabin 
set  there  in  a  wilderness,  that  one  wondered  how  a 
man  could  be  content  to  make  it  his  abode. 


A   SUPPfiR  AT   PARKER  WILLETT'S  267 

"Welcome  to  my  hut,"  said  Parker,  bowing  Mrs. 
Kennedy  in.  Polly  followed  and  Agnes  came  last. 
The  girl  gave  an  exclamation  of  surprise  and  pleasure 
as  she  entered  the  room.  It  showed  only  the  barest 
necessities  in  the  way  of  furnishings,  but  the  walls 
were  festooned  with  vines,  and  upon  the  table  stood 
a  huge  bowl  of  swamp  magnolias.  Heaped  high  at 
one  end  upon  large  leaves  were  ripe  strawberries,  and 
at  the  other  were  cherries  as  brightly  red.  Around 
the  table  was  twisted  a  grape-vine,  and  each  rough 
stool  was  covered  with  a  piece  of  fringed  deerskin. 

Polly  looked  about  her  in  surprise.  "Who'd  ha' 
thought  a  man  would  ha'  done  all  this ;  it  looks  like 
a  woman's  work,  an'  a  kind  that  we  don't  see  about 
here.  I've  niver  seen  the  beat,  even  at  a  weddhV. 
How'd  you  get  a  holt  o'  them  cherries?" 

"  They  came  from  Dod  Hunter's,  and  the  strawberries, 
too,"  Parker  told  her. 

"  It  surely  is  very  tasteful,"  said  Mrs.  Kennedy. 
"You  are  very  poetical  I  should  think,  Mr.  Willett. 
You  have  honored  us  very  much  by  taking  all  this 
trouble,  yet  I  know  it  was  a  pleasure,  too.  How  sweet 
those  magnolias  are !  There  is  not  any  perfume  equal 
to  theirs." 

Fresh  fish  and  venison  were  considered  enough  in 
the  way  of  meats,  and  Polly  proceeded  to  make  some 
of  her  famous  bannocks  to  match  Parker's  corn-pone, 
and  the  two  waxed  very  merry  over  their  competition. 


268  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

Once  in  a  while  Agnes  stole  a  look  at  her  host,  but 
though  he  was  courteously  polite,  there  was  no  answer- 
ing glance  to  hers.  It  thrilled  the  girl  to  be  beneath 
this  roof  that  must  now  shelter  the  man  who  had  grown 
so  dear  to  her;  to  see  there  his  rifle  and  shot  pouch 
hanging  on  two  buck  horns,  his  hunting-shirts  on  pegs 
by  the  ladder  which  led  aloft,  the  little  row  of  his 
precious  books  upon  a  shelf  on  the  rough  wall,  his 
silver  drinking-cup  full  of  wild  flowers  on  the  high 
mantel-shelf;  all  these  things  so  distinctly  personal, 
so  associated  with  his  daily  life.  She  bit  her  lip,  and 
her  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  she  realized  that  by  her 
own  wilfulness  she  had  lost  half  the  delight  of  this 
June  day.  What  could  she  say  to  make  him  under- 
stand her  girlish  pettishness  ?  How  could  she  undo 
the  impression  she  had  given  him  ?  There  was  no 
excuse  she  could  offer  that  would  seem  adequate. 
She  could  not  tell  him  that  in  a  fit  of  mere  foolish 
annoyance  at  his  prolonged  absence  she  had  chosen 
to  deceive  him  with  regard  to  her  relations  with  Archie. 
How  courteous  he  was ;  with  what  deference  he  waited 
on  her  mother ;  how  anxious  he  was  for  the  comfort  of 
his  guests  —  he  had  planned  this  for  their  pleasure  and 
she  had  made  it  but  a  bitter  trial  for  herself. 

"  Shall  you  put  a  good  crop  in  ? "  said  the  practical 
Polly,  looking  interestedly  toward  the  corn-field,  and 
addressing  Parker. 

"  I  hope  to  have  enough ;  it  does  not  take  much  to 


A   SUPPER  AT  PARKER  WILLETTS  269 

feed  one  man  and  his  horse. '  I  do  not  know  all  I  ought 
about  farming,  but  I  am  willing  to  learn,  and  I  think  I 
shall  get  along." 

"  It's  well  enough  to  have  yer  manger  full,"  Polly 
returned.  "  Ah,  these  are  aisy  times,  Nancy,  to  those 
we  had  when  no  man  durst  go  out  alone  to  plant  or 
hoe,  and  when  working  parties  had  to  have  their 
sentries  armed  and  watchful  of  the  Injuns.  Manny  a 
time  their  men  have  scuttled  in  from  the  fields,  and 
manny  a  time  has  my  Jimmy  gone  out  with  half  a  dozen 
others  to  guard  some  foolhardy  man  back  to  the  fort 
who  had  trusted  to  his  own  two  legs  to  get  away,  and 
would  have  been  scalped  in  sight  of  his  own  house  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  his  more  cautious  neighbors." 

"  And  I  suppose  those  same  men  were  ready  to  fly 
in  the  face  of  Providence  again  at  the  first  chance,  and 
would  go  out  by  themselves  to  their  fields,  trusting  to 
luck  to  get  back  safe." 

"  Yes,  an'  if  they  didn't  happen  to  get  ketched,  they'd 
boast  of  how  much  bigger  crops  they  had  than  anybody 
else.  I  never  felt  in  peace  mesel'  till  Wayne's  treaty." 

"Yet  you  wouldn't  leave  the  first  settlement  till  you 
had  to,"  Agnes  reminded  her. 

"We  all  have  our  follies,"  Polly  replied  calmly. 
"  Yer  no  done  bein'  foolish  yersel',  Nancy."  A  remark 
which  Agnes  at  that  moment  silently  indorsed. 

The  supper  over  and  the  table  cleared,  Parker  took 
from  the  shelf  his  flute,  and  played  for  them  many 


2/0  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

plaintive  airs,  so  that  Agnes's  heartache  was  made 
worse  instead  of  better.  She  sat  by  her  mother  on  the 
doorsill,  Parker  leaning  against  a  tree  near  by.  It 
seemed  as  if  his  melancholy  strains  were  a  reproach 
to  her,  and  she  could  have  wept.  Polly,  too,  felt  the 
spell  of  the  plaintive  melodies,  and  furtively  wiped  her 
eyes.  Then  her  strong  voice  demanded  something 
lively.  "  We'll  all  have  the  doldrums ;  it's  worse  'an 
a  banshee's  wailin',"  she  remarked  vehemently,  and  to 
please  her  Parker  struck  up  "  St.  Patrick's  Day  in  the 
Morning,"  which  broke  the  spell  and  set  Polly's  foot  to 
tapping  time. 

Then  came  the  ride  to  the  river  which  they  desired  to 
reach  before  dark,  and  this  time  Agnes  sprang  up 
before  Polly,  taking  her  mother's  place  and  declaring 
that  it  was  but  fair  that  they  should  change  partners, 
and  when  they  reached  the  river,  though  Parker  would 
have  rowed  them  across,  they  saw  Jimmy  waiting  on  the 
other  side,  and  so  their  host  left  them  to  glide  out  into 
the  moonlight,  and  all  Agnes  had  for  comfort  was  a 
remembrance  that  to  her  was  given  his  last  hand-clasp 
as  he  helped  her  into  the  boat,  and  that  she  so  sat  that 
her  back  was  toward  her  home,  and  she  could  behold 
him  standing  there  watching,  till  his  figure,  a  silhouette 
in  the  moonlight,  was  hidden  behind  the  trees.  At  the 
hilltop  she  turned  to  look  once  more,  but  he  had  gone, 
and  what  was  silver  moonlight  or  June  weather  to  her  ? 


CHAPTER   XVII 

IN  ABSENCE 

THE  mystery  surrounding  the  copy  of  the  will 
which  had  been  extracted  from  Parker's  box  was 
solved  the  next  week,  and  by  no  less  person  than 
Jimmy  O'Neill,  who  came  in  chuckling  over  the  discov- 
ery. "  When  thieves  fa*  oot  honest  folk  win  back  their 
ain,"  he  said,  nodding  wisely  to  Mrs.  Kennedy,  and  pro- 
ducing a  paper  from  his  pocket.  "  Hump  Muirhead 
overketched  himsel',  as  I'll  be  tellin'  ye.  It  seems  he 
offered  what's  most  vallyble  to  a  backwoodsman,  a  good 
rifle,  to  the  one  of  his  comrades  that  'ud  fetch  him  the 
will,  an'  a  dozen  av  em  was  on  the  lookout  for  it.  Two 
av  'em  kep'  their  eyes  on  Park  Willett  from  the  time  he 
left  the  house  here  till  he  got  acrost  the  river,  an*  seein' 
him  give  a  paper  to  David,  they  turned  their  attention  to 
Davy  instead,  but  they  blundered  in  their  plans  an* 
caught  him  comin'  home  instead  o*  goin'.  Ivery  man  o' 
thim  bein'  anxious  to  kape  his  own  counsel,  they  acted 
as  saycrit  as  they  could,  an'  they  all  do  be  watchin'  their 
chanst ;  so  when  Parker  drops  the  box,  one  av  'em  is 
ready  to  pick  it  up,  and  gets  out  the  copy,  an*  seein'  no 
further  use  for  the  box,  he  drops  it  again  where  he 

271 


2/2  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

found  it.  Not  bein'  quite  sure  av  what  he's  found  an* 
not  knowin'  the  other  two  has  seen  Park  give  David 
the  will,  he  waits  till  he  gits  where  he  can  examine  it, 
an'  then  he  carries  it  to  Hump  in  full  expectation  of 
gittin'  the  prize.  But  Hump  see  as  soon  as  he  pops 
eyes  on  it  that  it's  but  a  copy,  bein'  as  it's  written  on 
the  back  av  a  letter  addressed  to  Mr.  Parker  Willett,  an' 
he  tells  the  puir  gawk  it's  no  good,  an'  the  two  av  'em 
has  words  over  it,  an'  the  man,  Bill  Spear,  brings  it  to 
me,  thinkin'  he'll  get  even  with  Hump  by  tellin'  the 
whole  tale,  an'  maybe  do  himsel'  a  good  turn.  An'  —  " 
but  Jimmy  stopped  short,  considering  that  it  would  not 
be  pleasant  information  if  he  told  Mrs.  Kennedy  that 
there  were  some  determined  men  in  the  neighborhood 
who  were  bent  on  ridding  the  place  of  Humphrey  Muir- 
head,  and  who  were  threatening  to  tar  and  feather  him 
if  he  did  not  leave  within  a  given  time.  Jimmy  himself 
was  one  of  the  party,  and  he  did  not  mean  that  the  plans 
should  miscarry. 

Jimmy's  listeners  gave  him  strict  attention  till  he  had 
finished.  "  An*  why  did  he  come  to  ye  ? "  Polly  asked 
with  a  twinkle  in  her  eye. 

Jimmy  answered  first  by  a  sly  nod.  "  He  knew  which 
side  his  bread  was  buttered  on.  I've  not  a  forge  for 
nothin'."  Polly  understood.  She  had  talked  the  matter 
over  with  her  husband,  and  knew  without  being  told  that 
Bill  Spear  was  aware  that  Jimmy  was  a  leader  in  the 
plan  to  rid  the  neighborhood  of  Hump  Muirhead. 


IN  ABSENCE  273 

" Alack-a-day,"  sighed  Mrs.  Kennedy.  "We're  a 
deal  of  trouble  to  our  neighbors ;  I'd  rather  the  will  had 
never  been  found  than  to  have  stirred  up  riots." 

Jimmy  laughed.  "  Ye've  no  call  to  say  that,  ma'am  ; 
it  stirs  up  the  blood  to  be  havin'  a  bit  av  adventure,  an' 
there's  no  wan  av  us  but's  glad  to  sarve  you.  It  puts 
naebody  in  a  pother  at  all.  We'll  have  ye  settled  in 
your  own  corner  gin  ye  know  it,  Mrs.  Kennedy.  By 
the  way,  Nancy,"  he  turned  to  the  girl  who  was  eagerly 
taking  in  all  the  talk,  "  I  saw  Davy  Campbell  the 
morn ;  he  was  up  for  me  to  shoe  his  mare,  an'  he 
says  Jeanie  would  like  to  see  ye ;  she's  a  bit  av  news 
for  ye." 

"Then  I'll  go  over."  Agnes  looked  at  her  mother 
for  approval. 

"  Certainly  go,"  said  Mrs.  Kennedy.  And  that  after- 
noon Agnes  set  forth.  She  had  been  eager  to  see 
Jeanie  in  her  new  establishment,  and  was  not  surprised 
to  find  her  singing  blithely  and  looking  as  happy  as 
possible. 

She  ran  out  to  meet  Agnes  and  drew  her  indoors. 
Everything  was  spick-and-span  about  the  little  cabin, 
and  David's  thought  for  his  bride  was  evidenced  by  the 
many  useful  little  helps  toward  her  housekeeping  that 
his  busy  hands  had  provided  for  her.  "  He  is  so  good,  is 
Davy,"  said  Jeanie,  showing  off  her  various  possessions 
with  much  pride.  "  I  wish  ye  had  a  man  of  your  ain, 
Nancy." 


2/4  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

Agnes  laughed.  "  'Tis  always  the  way  of  those 
who're  married;  they're  soon  ready  to  entice  others 
into  the  trap  into  which  they  have  fallen." 

"  Ah  but,  Nancy,  that's  no  way  to  speak  of  matri- 
mony. See  how  happy  I  am,  and  is  it  strange  that  I 
should  want  a  like  happiness  to  come  to  you  ? " 

"A  girl  might  well  envy  you,  Jeanie,  for  you've 
everything  very  comfortable,"  Agnes  confessed. 

"  David  has  even  planted  a  flower  garden  for  me," 
the  bride  told  her  friend,  "  and  he  gets  up  bright  and 
early  to  weed  it.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  man  like 
that  ?  Most  think  there's  more  than  enough  to  do,  but 
there's  not  a  lazy  bone  in  David's  body." 

"  But  what's  the  news  you  have  to  tell  me,  Jeanie  ?  " 

"  Ah,  that's  the  best  yet ;  Archie  is  coming  home  for 
a  spell,  an'  he'll  study  here  with  the  meenister,  and 
then  go  to  the  academy  at  Canonsburg,  and  that'll  be 
no  so  far  from  home.  Are  you  not  glad,  Nancy  ? " 

"I  am  very  glad  for  Archie." 

"  And  you  will  be  glad  to  see  him  ? " 

"  Of  course,  Jeanie,  why  shouldn't  I  be  ? "  But 
she  spoke  without  much  enthusiasm,  then  realizing  her 
spiritless  speech,  she  added :  "  We're  old  friends, 
Archie  and  I,  and  we've  had  many  a  good  time  to- 
gether. I  hope  we'll  have  many  another." 

"  I  can  echo  that  wish,"  Jeanie  responded  heartily. 
"  Sit  down,  now,  Nancy,  and  tell  me  all  that  has  been 
going  on  your  way." 


IN   ABSENCE  275 

Agnes  drew  her  knitting  from  her  pocket,  and  the 
two  sat  on  the  doorsill,  their  fingers  busy  with  their 
clicking  needles  and  their  tongues  going  quite  as  fast 
Agnes  related  Jimmy's  account  of  Bill  Spear,  and  as 
this  was  a  matter  in  which  both  Jeanie  and  David  were 
greatly  interested,  her  piece  of  news  was  received  with 
much  attention.  "  David  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  it  is  all 
cleared  up.  How  everything  is  smoothing  out,  Agnes ! 
I  am  so  glad  for  you  all.  Must  you  go  ? "  for  Agnes 
had  risen,  and  was  putting  away  her  knitting. 

"Yes,  I  must.  I  promised  mother  I'd  not  stay  late, 
for  she  does  not  like  me  to  go  through  the  woods  alone, 
and  I  thought  I  would  stop  at  Patty  Scott's  to  see  how 
the  baby  is.  I  heard  she  had  been  ill." 

"  When  Archie  comes,  you  will  not  have  to  go  through 
the  woods  alone.  Ah,  Nancy,  there  are  good  times  in 
store  for  us.  We  four  will  have  many  a  time  together. 
I  shall  yet  have  you  for  my  sister." 

Agnes  turned  to  take  her  path  toward  Patty  Scott's, 
but  there  was  no  responsive  echo  in  her  heart  to  Jeanie's 
anticipations.  Archie's  coming  would  but  complicate 
matters  for  her,  and  she  felt  a  heartsinking  at  thought 
of  it.  He  would  be  taking  up  her  spare  moments 
and  expecting  attention  from  her.  She  must  see 
Parker  soon,  and  tell  him  of  Archie's  coming,  and  if  he 
would  but  give  her  the  chance,  she  would  assure  him 
that  no  minister's  wife  did  she  intend  to  be.  "  But," 
she  sighed,  "  he  takes  so  much  for  granted,  and  does  not 


276  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

seem  to  know  that  I  was  but  flouting  him  that  day." 
She  pressed  her  hands  together  and  looked  eagerly 
toward  the  hilltop  as  she  approached  it,  but  no  one  was 
there  waiting  for  her.  It  seemed  as  if  she  went  down 
into  the  shadow  of  a  great  disappointment  as  she  de- 
scended the  hill.  But  there  was  her  mother  coming  to 
meet  her  —  her  dear  mother.  The  girl's  heart  outran 
her  footsteps.  "  How  kind  of  you  to  come  to  meet  me, 
mother,"  she  said  as  she  came  up.  "  I  like  to  have  you 
do  that." 

"  Always  ?  "  returned  her  mother,  smiling. 

Agnes  smiled  consciously,  then  her  face  looked  grave. 

"  Sit  down  for  a  moment  under  this  tree,"  said  her 
mother.  "  I  have  something  to  tell  you.  Mr.  Willett 
has  been  here.  Did  you  meet  him  ?  He  said  he  would 
try  to  find  you." 

"  No,  I  did  not  see  him.  I  went  around  by  Patty 
Scott's  to  see  how  her  baby  was." 

"  Then  that  is  why  he  missed  you.  I  am  sorry.  He 
left  a  little  note  for  you  in  case  he  should  not  see  you. 
Wait,  my  lamb,"  for  Agnes  had  turned  and  was  holding 
out  her  hand  eagerly.  "He  came  to  make  his  fare- 
wells; he  is  on  his  way  to  Marietta.  He  is  called  home 
by  the  illness  of  his  mother." 

Agnes  turned  deathly  pale,  and  whispered,  "The 
note,  the  note,  mother." 

Mrs.  Kennedy  took  it  from  the  bosom  of  her  gown, 
and  handed  it  to  the  girl  who  received  it  with  shaking 


IN   ABSENCE  277 

fingers.  Her  mother  arose  from  the  fallen  log  on  which 
they  were  sitting  and  moved  away  for  a  short  distance, 
while  Agnes  read  :  — 

"  I  am  sorry  to  miss  you,  little  girl,  but  perhaps,  after 
all,  it  is  best.  May  you  be  happy  in  the  love  of  that 
good  youth,  Archie.  I  am  leaving  some  books  which 
I  hope  you  will  enjoy  reading.  Good-by,  and  God 

bless  you. 

"Your  friend, 

"  PARKER  WILLETT." 

Over  and  over  again  Agnes  read  the  note  till  the 
words  seemed  burnt  into  her  brain.  It  meant  more 
than  an  ordinary  farewell.  He  would  never  understand 
now,  and  he  was  going  back  to  Virginia  and  to 
Alicia.  She  gasped  at  the  thought  of  all  that  the  part- 
ing meant,  and  for  a  moment  felt  that  no  force  could 
keep  her  from  seeking  to  overtake  him.  She  ran  back  to 
her  mother.  "  When  did  he  go  ?  When  ?  How  long?  " 

"  It  was  an  hour  after  you  left.  Oh,  my  child,  do  not 
look  so !  He  will  come  back." 

"  Too  late,  too  late,"  moaned  Agnes. 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ?  He  will  return  as  soon  as 
his  mother  ceases  to  need  him.  She  is  very  ill,  and 
there  is  no  hope  of  her  recovery.  She  calls  for  him, 
and  he  will  go  to  remain  with  her  while  she  lives,  be 
it  a  long  or  a  short  time.  It  should  not  be  such  a 
grievous  thing  to  you,  dear  heart,  when  he  will  return." 


278  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  Oh,  mother,  mother,  you  don't  know.  There  was  a 
misunderstanding,  and  it  was  my  fault,  and  now  I  can 
never  set  him  right.  Oh,  no,  I  see  that  I  never  can. 
Oh,  mother,  mother,  if  I  had  but  been  at  home,  all 
might  have  been  so  different.  Oh,  why  did  I  go  ? " 

Her  mother  put  her  arms  about  her,  and  led  her 
farther  under  the  shadow  of  the  trees.  "  Dear  bairn, 
I  wish  I  could  bear  this  for  you,  but  I  think  he  loves 
you,  and  it  may  all  be  for  the  best;  one  never  knows 
what  the  trials  are  sent  for.  Do  not  greet  so,  my  lamb. 
I  know  that  when  troubles  come  to  us  when  we  are 
young  they  seem  black  indeed,  and  the  day  of  peace 
and  comfort  a  long  way  off ;  but  don't  despair,  my  dear, 
remember  who  is  a  *  very  present  help  in  trouble.' " 

Agnes  sighed,  and  her  choking  sobs  ceased.  "Tell 
me  all  he  said,  mother.  It  came  so  suddenly  I  was 
not  prepared;  I  ought  to  be  more  brave.  I  am  not 
always  so  cowardly  when  troubles  come." 

"  No,  dear,  you  have  been  the  bravest  of  the  brave. 
There  is  not  very  much  to  tell.  He  was  not  here  very 
long,  for  he  was  anxious  to  be  on  the  way  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  I  think  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  meet  you. 
He  wishes  to  reach  home  as  soon  as  he  can.  There 
was  a  letter  from  his  sister,  he  said.  He  thanked  us  all 
for  our  kindness." 

"And  it  is  he  who  has  been  kind." 

"  So  I  told  him.  He  asked  for  the  little  box  of  min- 
iatures. I  found  it  and  gave  it  to  him,  but  he  left  some 


IN   ABSENCE  279 

books,  quite  a  number  which  he  said  he  had  promised 
to  lend  you." 

Agnes  was  quite  calm  now.  "  Mother,"  she  said,  "  I 
will  trust  and  wait.  You  are  right,  we  should  not  give 
way  to  fears.  I  am  glad  of  the  books ;  they  will  be  a 
great  comfort.  Mother,  you  know  —  you  know  how  I 
feel.  I  am  not  ashamed  that  I  do  care  so  much,  and 
you  said  —  oh,  mother,  you  said  you  thought  he  was  not 
indifferent  to  me,  so  I  will  trust  and  wait,  but  oh,  mother, 
comfort  me." 

"  My  bairn,  my  lamb ! "  The  mother's  arms  were 
again  about  her.  "  What  more  can  I  say  ?  Be  patient 
and  endure  and  all  will  be  well.  It  may  be  only  a  short 
time  before  he  is  here  again,  and  you  may  be  all  the 
happier  because  of  this  parting." 

Agnes  lifted  her  head  from  her  mother's  shoulder. 
"  Ah,  yes,  mother,  that  is  comforting.  I  remember,  too, 
that  sometimes  out  of  a  sorrow  comes  joy,  and  I  have 
you,  mother  dear,  and  that  is  so  much." 

But  the  days  that  followed  were  very  weary  ones ; 
the  world  seemed  to  have  lost  its  beauty.  The  thought 
of  that  empty  little  cabin  in  the  wilderness  would  bring 
a  pang  to  the  girl's  heart,  and  each  evening  she  would 
climb  the  hill  at  the  sunset  hour  to  live  over  the  happy 
moments  with  which  the  spot  was  associated.  The 
small  store  of  books  she  carried  to  her  room  to  be 
pored  over,  touched  lingeringly,  and  treasured  —  for 
had  not  his  hands  held  them  ?  Had  not  his  eyes  dwelt 


280  A   GENTLE  PIONEER 

on  every  page  ?  Had  he  not  followed  the  thought 
therein  expressed  ?  There  was  nothing  that  could  have 
expressed  so  much  or  have  brought  such  enduring  asso- 
ciation as  these,  and  in  time  Agnes  became  so  familiar 
with  them  that  she  could  have  repeated  pages  of  Shake- 
speare's plays,  Milton's  "  Paradise  Lost,"  Addison's  es- 
says, or  Spenser's  "  Faerie  Queene."  And  when  Archie 
came  she  quite  astonished  and  pleased  him  by  her 
learning. 

TMs  young  man's  coming  was  not  delayed  very  long, 
for  by  midsummer  he  was  in  their  midst,  looking  very 
much  improved  by  his  stay  in  a  more  civilized  com- 
munity. He  made  no  delay  in  going  to  see  Agnes,  and 
eagerly  asked  at  his  first  opportunity :  "  Are  ye  still 
heart-free,  Agnes  ?  Is  there  no  one  sitting  up  wi'  ye  ?  " 

"  No  one,  Archie,"  she  replied. 

"And  there's  none  o'  the  lads  hereabouts  you  like 
better  than  me  ?  Ye've  not  forgotten,  and  ye  still  have 
the  sixpence  ? " 

"  I  have  it  still,  yes."  She  ignored  the  first  part  of 
his  speech. 

"Ah,  weel,  then."  Archie  gave  a  sigh  of  satisfac- 
tion. He  felt  surer  of  his  ground.  He  had  been  some- 
what disturbed  on  Parker  Willett's  account,  but  Jeanie 
had  reassured  him  by  telling  him  that  Parker  had  left 
the  neighborhood.  "Jist  persevere,  Archie,"  she  said. 
"  It's  slow  and  steady  wins  the  race."  Nevertheless,  he 
felt  that  somehow  there  was  a  change  in  Agnes;  she 


IN  ABSENCE  281 

was  more  thoughtful  and  gentle,  and  less  free  with  him 
than  she  had  been.  He  approved  of  the  thoughtfulness 
and  gentleness,  and  attributed  the  fact  of  her  diffidence 
to  her  feeling  more  conscious  in  his  presence  now  that 
she  was  older.  Archie  was  quite  a  self-satisfied  person, 
and  was  not  disposed  to  underrate  himself,  especially 
since  he  had  been  at  his  grandfather's.  He  had  ob- 
served the  deference  paid  to  the  "  meenister,"  and  felt 
himself  quite  in  the  position  to  accept  all  the  considera- 
tion due  to  the  cloth.  "  It's  not  to  be  wondered  at  that 
she  is  impressed  by  the  knowledge  I'm  gamin',''  he 
told  himself,  "and  she's  beginning  to  see  that  it's  a 
high  position  in  the  world  she'll  be  having." 

But  one  fatal  day  Agnes  undeceived  him,  and  he 
groped  for  some  time  in  a  pit  of  humility  which  he  had 
digged  for  himself. 

It  was  as  the  two  were  coming  home  from  Jeanie's 
one  summer  evening.  Jeanie  always  did  her  best  to 
show  off  Archie's  learning,  and  to  let  Agnes  know  that 
he  was  becoming  a  person  of  importance.  And  on  this 
particular  occasion  Archie  was  feeling  specially  pleased 
with  himself,  the  more  so  that  Agnes  was  very  quiet, 
and  he  felt  that  she  was  quite  impressed.  He  was  more 
than  usually  voluble,»having  gained  much  in  the  art  of 
conversation  in  his  absence. 

"  I  am  thinking,"  he  said,  "  of  those  days  when  I  was 
in  such  awe  of  our  good  meenister.  To  be  sure,  Agnes, 
there  is  much  dignity  in  the  office,  but  it  is  not  you  that 


282  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

need  feel  abashed  by  my  little  learning.  '  Quod  igno- 
tum pro  magnifico  est?  "  He  rolled  the  Latin  words  off 
his  tongue  with  a  relish. 

Agnes's  temper  had  been  rising  all  the  evening.  She 
was  not  slow  to  notice  Archie's  self-complacence  and 
she  turned  on  him.  "  Speak  in  plain  English,  Archie 
M'Clean.  You  needn't  try  to  air  your  knowledge  before 
me.  I  abashed  by  you  ?  Stand  in  awe  of  your  little 
pickings  of  learning  ?  I'll  venture  to  say  that  I  know 
more  this  minute  about  some  things  than  you  do.  Can 
you  recite  me  the  play  of  Hamlet  ?  Can  you  tell  me 
when  King  Henry  Fifth  of  England  entered  France? 
or  who  it  was  that  wrote  the  *  Faerie  Queene '  ?  " 

Archie  looked  at  her  in  amazement.  "Are  ye  daft, 
Agnes  ?  Why  should  you  be  knowing  all  those 
things  ? " 

"  I  do  know  them,  and  many  other  things  of  the 
same  kind.  There  is  a  man,  more  modest  than  you, 
who  has  been  to  a  great  university,  and  yet  who  does 
not  all  the  time  be  speaking  in  Latin,  and  yet  I  have  no 
doubt  but  that  he  has  forgotten  more  than  you  will  ever 
know.  I  will  answer  your  Latin  speech  with  another : 
*  Laus  propria  sordet]  and  I  hope  you  like  it."  She 
was  as  proud  in  her  mouthing  of  the  words  as  Archie 
had  been.  It  was  Parker  who  had  taught  her  the 
saying,  "  Self-praise  defiles,"  and  she  had  repeated 
the  Latin  rendering  till  she  remembered  it,  and  now 
flung  it  at  Archie  with  a  scorn  which  completely 


IN  ABSENCE'  283 

crushed  him.  He  had  not  a  word  to  say  for  some 
minutes,  and  then  he  remarked  meekly,  "  I  didn't 
know  you  knew  Latin,  Agnes." 

"  I  don't,  but  I  know  that,  and  it  fits  the  case.  I've 
no  pleasure  in  a  man  who  blows  his  own  trumpet." 

"  Do  I  do  that  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  you  would  be  well  aware  of  it  when 
it  is  your  chief  occupation.  You  bluster  around  here 
as  if  the  universe  belonged  to  you,  and  you  are  so 
puffed  up  with  importance  that  there  is  no  comfort 
to  be  had  in  you.  Ah,  but  you're  sadly  changed, 
Archie,  and  not  for  the  better."  And  Archie's  hu- 
miliation was  complete.  Agnes,  having  begun  to  give 
vent  to  her  feelings,  went  on.  "  I  used  to  think  you 
were  as  nice  and  modest  a  lad  as  ever  I  knew,  but  if 
being  a  minister  means  disobeying  Paul's  injunction 
not  to  be  puffed  up,  then  I'll  forswear  ministers, 
though  they  are  the  heralds  of  the  gospel." 

"  Ah,  but,  Agnes  !  "  Archie's  voice  was  shocked,  but 
he  made  no  further  protest.  She  had  sent  her  shafts 
home  with  a  vengeance  and  he  smarted  under  the 
wounds.  He  was  conscious  that  there  was  truth  in 
what  she  said,  and  after  a  silence  he  said :  "  I  have 
been  puffed  up,  I  acknowledge  with  shame  and  hu- 
mility, —  I,  who  am  but  the  least  in  the  sight  of  heaven. 
Perhaps,  after  all,  Agnes,  I  am  not  fit  to  think  of 
filling  the  holy  office.  I  am  magnifying  the  station 
and  dishonoring  the  cause  I  should  guard  with  care. 


284  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

I'm  forgetting  that  it  was  said  that  the  last  shall  be 
first.  Ah,  Agnes,  perhaps  I'd  better  not  go  on." 

" '  He  that  putteth  his  hand  to  the  plough,'  "  quoted 
Agnes,  sternly.  "  You'd  best  go  on,  Archie,  and  you'll 
learn;  it's  your  inexperience.  I've  no  doubt  but  that 
you'll  make  a  good,  conscientious  minister  of  the 
gospel."  She  was  turning  the  tables  on  him  with  a 
vengeance.  "When  you're  older  you'll  know  less,  my 
mother  says,  and  she  says  you  will  have  occasion  to 
learn  meekness  and  lowliness.  If  you  want  my  friend- 
ship, you  will  certainly  have  to  become  less  of  a  brag- 
gart, and  that  right  quickly."  And  Archie's  rags  of 
pride  all  fell  from  him. 

"I'll  remember,  Agnes,"  he  said  unsteadily,  "and 
I'll  try  not  to  be  boastful.  If  I'd  known  ye  were  dis- 
pleased, and  that  it  was  that  has  been  keeping  ye  at 
your  distance  —  " 

Agnes  interrupted  him.  "  It's  not  that  altogether  for 
I —  I —  must  be  honest  with  you.  I  know  I  can  never 
care  for  you  as  you  want  me  to ;  there's  no  use  in  my 
pretending." 

"Ah,  but,"  Archie's  voice  was  eager  enough  now,  "  I 
know  why,  Agnes;  it's  my  foolish  boasting  that  has 
turned  you  from  me.  I  thought  to  win  ye  by  self- 
praise,  and  I  see  that  it  is  no  way,  for  what  a  man  is 
that  shall  he  appear  without  words  of  his.  Try  me 
again,  Agnes,  and  I'll  try  and  conquer  the  pride  and 
vainglory  that  should  have  no  place  in  my  heart.  No, 


IN  ABSENCE  285 

I'll  not  give  ye  up.  I've  said  that  once  and  for  all ;  not 
till  ye  marry  another  man." 

Agnes  sighed.  "  Then  I  think  we'll  neither  of  us  ever 
marry,  Archie." 

"  I'm  no'  so  sure  o'  that,"  he  returned  with  more  of 
his  old  confidence. 

4<  We  shall  see,"  said  Agnes,  bound  to  have  the  last 
word. 

Yet,  though  Archie's  companionship  after  this  was 
more  as  Agnes  would  have  had  it,  and  he  seemed  much 
as  he  had  been  in  the  old  days,  Agnes  herself  did  not 
change  her  attitude,  and  the  lad  missed  something  that 
he  in  vain  tried  to  renew  in  their  relationship.  True  to 
his  word,  he  did  not  speak  of  his  affection  for  her,  and 
if  the  girl's  heart  had  not  been  steadfast  in  its  devotion 
to  the  young  Virginian,  it  is  quite  probable  that  Archie, 
by  his  unfailing  tenderness  and  thoughtfulness,  would 
have  won  her  over.  He  certainly  made  her  summer 
days  pass  more  pleasantly,  and  the  two  spent  many  an 
hour  together  on  the  river,  rowing,  or  Under  the  trees, 
with  a  book.  Many  a  walk  they  had  through  the 
woods  to  Jeanie's,  and  many  a  ride  they  took  to  church, 
so  that  every  one  said  there  was  no  doubt  but  that  it  was 
a  sure  thing  that  the  M 'Cleans  would  have  Agnes 
Kennedy  for  a  daughter  in  good  time. 

Mrs.  Kennedy  was  a  little  troubled  by  these  reports, 
and  told  Agnes  of  them.  "  I  know,  mother,  that  people 
will  talk.  I  have  told  Archie  how  I  feel  toward  him, 


286  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

and  that  I  am  willing  to  be  his  friend,  but  nothing  more, 
yet  he  will  persist,  and  says  he  does  not  care  what  the 
neighbors  say ;  that  they  know  more  about  it  than  I  do. 
You  would  like  to  see  me  a  minister's  wife,  wouldn't 
you,  mother  ?  "  she  asked  wistfully. 

"  I  do  not  want  my  lass  to  waste  her  youth  in  waiting 
for  one  who  may  never  return  to  her." 

"  But  you  bade  me  trust  and  be  patient." 

"  Yes,  but  I  had  not  then  had  this."  She  drew  forth 
a  letter  and  handed  it  to  Agnes.  It  was  from  Parker 
Willett.  After  telling  of  his  safe  arrival  he  said  that 
his  mother  grew  weaker,  but  the  doctors  gave  hope 
that  she  might  live  a  year.  "  In  view  of  my  protracted 
absence,"  he  wrote,  "  I  am  sending  to  my  little  clearing 
a  young  cousin,  whom  I  commend  to  your  friendly 
interest.  He  is  a  boy  of  good  character,  and  desires 
much  to  go  to  the  Western  Reserve;  this  seems  an 
opportunity  which  he  is  very  ready  to  take,  and  he  will 
set  forth  at  once."  After  sending  polite  messages  to 
the  family  he  signed  himself  "Your  grateful  friend, 
Parker  Willett."  The  only  mention  of  Agnes  was  in 
a  message  which  conveyed  his  remembrances,  and  the 
hope  that  she  was  enjoying  the  books  he  had  left. 

Agnes  refolded  the  letter  thoughtfully  and  handed  it 
back  to  her  mother  without  a  word,  but  it  gave  her  the 
heartache  for  many  a  day  after. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE  OVERTHROW  OF  HUMPHREY 

WITH  the  appearance  of  young  Carter  Ritchie,  the 
neighbors  arrived  at  the  decision  that  Parker 
Willett  would  not  return,  and  that  eventually  this 
cousin  of  his  would  take  his  clearing.  Indeed,  Carter 
himself  gave  this  impression,  for  it  was  not  long  before 
he  knew  the  whole  country-side,  and  had  taken  his 
place  as  a  resident.  His  first  visit,  after  seeking  out 
Dod  Hunter,  was  to  the  Kennedys,  and  though  the 
questions  which  Agnes  put  were  few,  Carter  was  not 
reticent,  and  being  always  glad  of  listeners,  he  chatted 
on,  revealing  many  things,  and  not  hesitating  sometimes 
to  draw  somewhat  upon  his  imagination  so  that  his 
stories  might  be  the  more  effective.  He  was  a  bright, 
attractive  young  fellow,  nineteen  or  twenty  years  of  age, 
with  a  fresh,  boyish  face,  pleasant  manners,  and  a  soft 
Southern  voice.  He  was  not  slow  in  finding  out  the 
prettiest  girls  in  the  neighborhood,  and  his  gallantries 
were  soon  the  cause  of  many  heartburnings. 

He  greeted  the  Kennedys  as  old  friends.  "  Oh,  I've 
heard  about  you  all  from  Park,"  he  said,  "and  I  don't 
feel  a  stranger  at  all.  When  is  Park  coming  back  ?  I 

287 


288  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

don't  know.  Never,  I  reckon ;  there  are  too  many 
things  to  keep  him  at  home.  He  is  at  Colonel  Southall's 
every  day,  and  the  colonel  has  two  pretty  daughters. 
Blest  if  I  don't  think  Nell  is  prettier  than  Alicia ;  she  is 
not  of  your  touch-me-not  kind,  like  Alicia,  and  is  always 
ready  for  a  good  time.  The  colonel's  fond  of  Park ;  he 
has  no  sons,  you  know,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  Park 
found  it  a  good  thing  to  settle  down  right  there  ;  that  is 
what  everybody  thinks  he  will  do."  The  color  which 
had  dyed  Agnes's  cheeks  a  crimson  at  the  hearing  of 
Parker's  name  now  retreated,  and  she  was  very  pale. 

"  Aunt  Lucy  seems  a  little  better  since  Parker  came," 
Carter  went  on,  "but  she  can't  live  very  long,  a  year 
maybe  at  the  longest;  she's  in  a  consumption,  you 
know."  He  talked  on,  answering  questions  and  giving 
information,  till  the  listeners  knew  more  of  Parker's 
family  and  his  affairs  than  they  had  learned  in  all  their 
acquaintance  with  him.  "  Say,  Miss  Agnes,"  the  lad 
said  as  he  arose  to  go,  "  you  and  I  will  have  real  good 
times.  Park  told  me  he  had  a  boat,  and  I  am  in  for 
rowing  or  any  kind  of  sport.  Do  you  like  to  ride  ? 
Have  you  a  saddle-horse  ?  Never  mind,  I  can  get  one, 
I  reckon."  And  before  she  knew  it,  Agnes  found  her- 
self promising  to  go  riding,  boating,  walking,  or  anything 
else  of  the  kind  that  Carter  proposed. 

"  That  young  man's  not  goin'  to  wear  out  his  sowl  by 
greetin'  for  his  home,"  said  Polly  ;  "  it's  aye  grist  'at  comes 
to  his  mill,  an*  he'll  be  dancin',  whoever  pipes." 


THE  OVERTHROW  OF  HUMPHREY     289 

"  He  certainly  seems  to  have  a  flow  of  spirits,"  Mrs. 
Kennedy  agreed. 

"An*  pleasant  manners,  an'  he's  pleasant  spoken. 
I'll  be  tachin'  him  a  rale  Irish  jig  before  the  year's  out, 
ye'll  see.  I  foretell  he'll  make  friends,  but,  to  my  mind, 
his  cousin  Park's  more  the  man.  I'd  be  sorry  not  to  see 
him  again." 

"  I  think  you  will,"  returned  Mrs.  Kennedy. 

The  color  came  back  to  Agnes's  face,  and  she  gave 
her  mother  a  grateful  look,  yet  her  poor  little  heart  was 
very  sore.  Alicia !  and  he  had  not  forgotten ;  the  old 
love  was  the  strongest.  If  he  had  never  gone  back, 
perhaps  all  would  have  been  well,  but  now  he  believed 
her  pledged  to  Archie,  and  he  would  return  to  his  first 
love.  Why  had  she  so  stubbornly  allowed  him  to  think 
her  indifferent  to  him,  and  to  believe  her  heart  was  all 
Archie's  ?  She  could  scarce  keep  her  thoughts  from 
straying  at  family  prayers  that  evening,  but  when  her 
father  read  the  parable  of  the  foolish  virgins,  Agnes 
gave  a  deep  sigh  and  applied  it,  maiden-like,  to  her 
own  case ;  it  was  too  late  and  the  door  was  shut. 

But  youth,  though  it  is  easily  dispirited,  is  also  elastic, 
and  Agnes  could  not  be  continually  moping.  She  was 
ready  to  take  such  pleasures  as  came  to  her,  and  really 
enjoyed  life,  though  she  had  her  pensive  moments 
when  she  had  romantic  dreams  of  dying  young,  of 
touching  the  heart  of  her  loved  one  by  going  into  a 
decline,  but  she  was  too  healthily  minded  and  too  busy 


2QO  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

to  allow  these  thoughts  to  recur  very  often.  She  found 
Carter  Ritchie  good  company ;  he  was  so  full  of  fun, 
so  energetic  and  buoyant,  and  likewise  so  pleasure- 
loving  that  he  was  ready  at  any  time  to  leave  his 
work  for  a  frolic,  and  at  last  Archie  became  possessed 
by  the  demon  of  jealousy,  and  glowered  upon  his  sweet- 
heart till  she  brought  him  to  account. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Archie  M' Clean,  by  looking  at 
me  as  if  you'd  cast  an  evil  eye  upon  me  ?  What  have 
I  done  that  you  should  glower  so  ?  " 

"  You're  naught  but  a  shallow  coquette,"  said  Archie, 
blurting  out  his  grievance. 

"Have  you  any  claim  upon  me,  Archie  M ' Clean  ? 
Did  I  not  tell  you  that  I  could  not  care  for  you  as  you 
chose  I  should  ?  Have  you  any  right  to  call  me  to 
account  ? " 

He  confessed  he  had  not,  but  she  had  encouraged 
him  to  believe  she  did  care  for  him  in  times  past,  and 
he  had  told  her  he  would  not  give  her  up. 

"I  know  you  said  that,  but  I  have  never  deceived 
you,  and  I  said  I  would  marry  you.  I  said  that  when  I 
was  but  a  slip  of  a  girl;  but  even  then  I  told  you  it 
would  be  only  in  case  I  did  not  see  some  one  I  liked 
better,  and  you  were  free  to  do  likewise." 

Archie's  face  fell.  "Ay,  then,  if  ye  have  seen  some 
one,  it's  all  over,  and  I'd  as  well  take  my  way  to 
Canonsburg  as  soon  as  I  can,  but  it  will  be  fey  with 
me  when  I  think  o'  ye  an'  that  light-headed  Ritchie, 


THE   OVERTHROW   OF   HUMPHREY  291 

though  I  don't  want  to  part  in  anger,  Agnes.  We're 
friends  ? " 

"Oh,  yes,  friends."  She  wondered  suddenly  if, 
after  all,  she  could  let  Archie  go.  If  she  should  never 
see  Parker  again,  if  it  was  as  Carter  had  told  her,  that 
he  would  marry  Alicia,  what  of  herself  ?  "  I'd  no  like  to 
be  an  old  maid,"  she  told  that  same  self  honestly,  "and, 
after  all,  who  better  than  Archie  ? "  As  a  minister's 
wife  she  could  give  herself  up  to  doing  good,  and  that 
would  be  a  wise  and  consistent  thing  to  do.  She  might 
not  be  as  happy  as  she  had  hoped,  but  she  could  make 
others  happy.  She  looked  up  wistfully.  "Is  it  of 
young  Carter  Ritchie  you're  thinking  ? "  she  asked, 
twisting  the  ends  of  her  handkerchief  abstractedly. 

"  Who  else  could  it  be  ?  He  is  with  ye  morn,  noon, 
and  night." 

"It  is  not  he  more  than  yourself,  Archie.  We  are 
friends  as  you  and  I  are,  and  he  is  content  that  way ; 
we  are  nothing  but  comrades."  She  did  not  confess 
that  half  the  charm  of  Carter's  society  lay  in  the  fact 
that  she  liked  to  hear  him  talk  of  his  Virginia  home 
and  of  his  cousins. 

Archie's  face  brightened.  "  Then  ye'll  keep  the 
same  way  o'  thinking  and  ye're  no  changed  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  changed  this  last  month  if  that's  what  you 
mean.  I  feel  the  same  toward  you,  Archie,  but  if 
you  are  going  to  bring  me  to  task  every  time  I  go 
walking  with  another,  I  can't  answer  for  consequences." 


2Q2  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  I'll  try  to  be  content,"  said  Archie,  sighing,  and  they 
parted  in  peace. 

But  just  about  this  time  came  an  experience  which, 
for  the  time  being,  put  all  else  out  of  Agnes's  head.  It 
was  Dr.  Flint  who  brought  word  that  matters  were 
about  to  culminate  in  the  affair  with  Hump  Muirhead. 

Agnes  had  seldom  seen  the  doctor  since  the  day  of 
their  search  for  Parker,  and  she  was  surprised  at  his 
making  his  appearance  one  morning,  finding  her  housing 
a  hen  with  a  late  brood  of  chickens. 

"Ah,  Miss  Agnes,  good  morning,"  he  said  as  he 
doffed  his  cap.  "You  are  the  very  lady  I  wished  to  see." 

Agnes  put  the  last  chirping,  fluffy  ball  of  a  chick 
under  its  mother's  wings,  and  arose  to  her  feet.  "  I 
am  glad  to  see  you,  Dr.  Flint.  You  seldom  come 
around  this  way." 

"  No,  my  place  is  so  far  away  from  this,  you  know. 
I  thought,  however,  that  I'd  like  to  be  the  first  to  bring 
you  the  news  that  we're  likely  to  be  rid  of  Humphrey 
Muirhead  by  this  time  to-morrow." 

"  Why,  what  do  you  mean  ?  Has  he  decided  that, 
after  all,  it's  best  to  go  peaceably  ? " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  The  boys  are  going  to  help  him 
get  away,  and  he'll  not  have  to  walk  either." 

Agnes  began  to  understand.  "They  will  not  do 
anything  cruel,  I  hope." 

"  Well,  I  have  heard  that  riding  on  a  rail  is  not  the 
most  comfortable  way  to  travel." 


THE   OVERTHROW   OF   HUMPHREY  293 

"  Oh  !  "  Agnes  was  horror-stricken,  for  even  though 
she  knew  such  practices  were  not  uncommon,  she  had 
never  known  any  one  who  was  so  treated. 

"The  boys  concluded,"  Dr.  Flint  continued,  "that 
they  had  stood  about  all  they  were  going  to  from  Hump 
Muirhead,  and  they  have  about  settled  it  that  he's  got 
to  go,  and  that  right  quick." 

"  Is  there  anything  new  ?  Has  he  done  anything 
else  lately  ? " 

"  Well,  no  ;  but  he  declares  there'll  be  war  if  any  one 
attempts  to  get  him  off  the  place,  and  that  it  will  take 
a  few  more  to  dislodge  him  than  the  law  is  likely  to 
send,  and  we're  about  tired  of  hearing  that  kind  of 
talk." 

"  Oh,  but  his  poor  wife  and  the  children  —  Honey  and 
the  rest  of  them." 

"  That's  so  ;  it  is  hard  on  them,  but  the  innocent  must 
suffer  with  the  guilty  sometimes.  The  wife  will  have 
to  go  with  her  children  to  her  father's  till  Hump  can 
get  her  another  home.  He's  no  fool,  and  he  can  get 
himself  a  place  easy  enough ;  no  fear  but  that  he's 
feathered  his  nest  well  since  he's  had  this  place  of 
your  grandfather's.  You  see,  Miss  Agnes,  in  a  coun- 
try like  this  we  must  some  times  take  the  law  in  our 
own  hands  and  use  force,  for  there  are  such  a  lot  of 
outrageous  scoundrels  that  come  into  a  new  country, 
it's  hard  waiting  for  the  law  to  take  its  course ;  half 
the  time  the  whole  facts  can't  be  known,  and  justice 


294  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

would  never  be  done.  If  Hump  was  given  his  way, 
and  if  you  took  the  case  to  the  courts,  it  might  be 
years  before  you  get  your  rights.  I  have  known  more 
than  one  settler  driven  from  his  own  property  by  some 
one  that  defied  him  to  take  it,  and  we  don't  intend  that 
shall  happen  in  this  case." 

Agnes  was  lost  in  thought.  She  was  busy  forming  a 
plan.  She  nodded  her  head,  for  all  at  once  it  had  come 
to  her  what  she  would  do.  She  smiled  as  Dr.  Flint 
stopped  speaking.  "  I  am  sure  it  is  very  kind  of  you, 
Dr.  Flint,  to  come  and  tell  me.  I  am  glad  Mrs.  Muir- 
head  can  go  to  her  father's  house.  I  suppose  I  know 
very  little  about  such  things,  but  I  have  no  doubt  that 
you  will  do  what  is  right  in  the  matter." 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  I  you  must  look  to,  for  I  shall  not  be 
in  it." 

"  I'm  rather  glad  of  that."  She  smiled  again,  and  the 
doctor  felt  flattered.  "  Won't  you  come  in,  doctor  ? " 

"Well,  yes,  I  will.  Miss  Agnes,  I've  never  met  your 
father,  and  I  have  a  professional  curiosity  to  see  him. 
I  have  an  idea  that  I  might  be  able  to  help  him,  but 
say  nothing  about  it  yet,"  he  added  hastily,  as  Agnes 
allowed  an  exclamation  of  joy  to  escape  her. 

"  I  will  take  you  to  him  now.  He  is  in  the  orchard, 
or  what  we  call  the  orchard,  for  our  trees  are  young 
and  are  not  bearing  yet.  This  is  the  way."  She  led 
him  by  the  path  along  the  slope  of  the  hill  to  where 
the  young  trees  were  being  tended  by  Fergus  Kennedy. 


THE   OVERTHROW  OF   HUMPHREY  295 

The  man  looked  up  with  his  pleasant,  childlike  smile  as 
he  saw  his  daughter  approaching.  "  This  is  Dr.  Flint, 
father,"  said  Agnes. 

The  doctor  greeted  him  cordially,  eyeing  him  keenly 
all  the  while,  "  Tell  me  all  you  can  about  his  hurt ;  you 
were  there,  I  am  told,"  he  said  in  an  aside  to  Agnes. 
She  obeyed,  answering  his  rapidly  put  questions.  At 
the  close  of  the  recital  the  doctor  made  a  rapid  exam- 
ination of  the  healed  wound.  "  A  slight  pressure  still," 
he  said.  "  You  say  he  gets  better.  The  nervous  shock 
was  great,  and  as  time  has  gone  on,  and  he  has  had 
peaceful  and  happy  surroundings,  it  has  done  much 
to  overcome  that  condition.  I  think  a  very  slight 
operation  could  be  performed  with  safety.  We  will 
speak  of  it  later." 

"  And  could  you  do  it  ?    There  would  be  no  danger  ? " 

"  No  more  than  we  usually  take  in  such  cases,  and  I 
think  we  might  venture  to  assert  there  would  be  none 
at  all." 

"  Will  you  tell  mother  ?  She  will  be  so  happy ;  it  is 
the  one  thing  to  make  her  perfectly  content ;  she  misses 
father  so  much." 

"  I  know  that.  Parker  told  me ;  it  was  he  who  first 
interested  me  in  the  case." 

Mr.  Kennedy  had  returned  to  his  work ;  he  had  sub- 
mitted patiently  to  the  examination,  answering  the  ques- 
tions put  him  by  the  doctor,  but  he  took  no  part  in  the 
conversation  that  followed.  It  made  him  rather  unhappy 


296  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

to  be  an  object  of  attention,  for  he  was  dimly  conscious 
that  all  was  not  right,  and  he  whispered  to  Agnes, 
"  What  is  he  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Make  you  well  and  happy,  dear  dad,  I  hope,"  Agnes 
returned,  giving  him  an  affectionate  pat. 

After  a  long  consultation  with  Mrs.  Kennedy  it  was 
decided  that  an  operation  should  take  place  a  little  later, 
and  the  hope  which  the  promise  of  it  brought  gave  a 
new  light  to  Mrs.  Kennedy's  eyes.  The  doctor  stayed 
to  dinner,  but  shortly  after  he  took  his  departure,  and 
then  Agnes  went  to  her  mother.  "  I  promised  Carter 
I'd  go  rowing  with  him  this  afternoon,"  she  said.  "  He 
wants  to  go  up  the  river  to  one  of  the  islands  and  have 
a  little  picnic." 

Her  mother  smiled.  "  You  and  Carter  seem  to  have 
a  great  many  expeditions.  What  does  Archie  say  ?  " 

"Archie  doesn't  like  it,  but  I  told  him." 

"  What  did  you  tell  him  ?  " 

"  That  Carter  and  he  were  both  on  the  same  footing, 
both  are  friends  and  good  comrades,  and  nothing 
more." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  returned  her  mother. 
"  Take  care,  my  child,  and  do  not  trifle  with  the  affec- 
tions of  a  good  man." 

"  I  am  not  trifling,  mother.  Do  you  think  I  am 
wrong  to  see  so  much  of  Carter?  He  is  not  in  danger 
of  heartbreak,  I  can  assure  you,  though  sometimes  he 
plays  at  making  love.  Do  you  think  I  am  wrong  ?  " 


THE   OVERTHROW   OF   HUMPHREY  297 

"  Not  if,  in  the  end,  it  makes  neither  him  nor  Archie 
unhappy.  Run  along  now,  and  take  your  outing." 

Agnes  was  eager  in  her  greeting  of  Carter  when  he 
met  her  on  the  river  bank.  "See  here,  Carter,"  she 
said,  "  I'm  going  to  tell  you  a  secret,  because  I  want 
your  help.  Will  you  promise  on  your  honor  as  a  gentle- 
man not  to  divulge  it  to  a  living  soul  ?  " 

"I  promise,"  he  returned,  his  hand  on  his  heart,  "if 
thereby  I  can  serve  a  lady." 

"  Well,  it  is  this,"  and  she  told  him  of  the  plan  regard- 
ing Humphrey  Muirhead.  "  Now,  then,  what  I  mean 
to  do  is  to  go  and  warn  him.  No,  wait  a  minute ;  I 
don't  mean  to  say  he  doesn't  deserve  it,  and  that  he  is 
not  a  hard,  bad  man,  but  then  there  is  his  poor  little 
wife,  who,  I  think,  really  loves  him,  and  I  want  to 
spare  her." 

Carter  considered  the  subject.  "Yes,  I  think  she 
ought  to  be  spared,  if  possible,"  he  decided. 

"  And  so  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  go  there  with  me ; 
it  is  not  very  far,  once  we  are  across  the  river,  and  we 
can  easily  walk  it.  You  know  the  place  is  between 
Dod  Hunter's  and  where  you  live." 

"  I  know  well  enough  where  it  is." 

"  And  you'll  go  with  me  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly." 

"  We'll  have  to  give  up  our  trip  to  the  island,  but  we 
can  go  another  time.  I  didn't  tell  mother  for  I  didn't 
have  a  chance,  and  besides  it  is  better  that  she  should 


298  ,       A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

not  know  just  yet.  I  knew  I  could  trust  you,  Carter. 
I  don't  believe  any  one  else  would  have  the  same  chiv- 
alric  spirit." 

Carter's  face  beamed.  "  Well,  you  know  where  ladies 
are  concerned  —  " 

"  Of  course  that's  it ;  any  one  else  would  have  said, 
1  Don't  fash  yersel'  aboot  the  women  folk.'  " 

Carter  laughed.  Agnes  never  spoke  so  broadly  as 
the  others  in  the  neighborhood,  for  her  mother  did  not, 
though  of  Scotch  descent,  but  her  imitation  was  per- 
fect. He  helped  her  into  the  boat  and  they  rowed 
swiftly  across  stream.  They  immediately  set  out  for  the 
Muirhead  place,  and  were  not  very  long  in  reaching  it. 
Mrs.  Muirhead  met  them  with  her  usual  frightened 
manner,  but  she  smiled  shyly  as  she  saw  who  it  was. 
Yes,  Hump  was  over  in  the  far  clearing ;  he  had  Honey 
with  him ;  she'd  send  one  of  the  children  after  him. 

Agnes  looked  at  Carter.  "  I  think  maybe  we'd 
better  go  and  find  him.  We'll  come  back  this  way, 
Mrs.  Muirhead." 

They  followed  her  directions,  and  found  Humphrey 
busy  at  work  digging  out  the  stumps  from  a  bit  of 
ground,  Honey  established  near  him  and  chattering 
away  in  his  baby  fashion. 

Agnes  walked  straight  up  to  her  uncle.  "  You  didn't 
expect  to  see  me,  Mr.  Muirhead,  I  know,"  she  began. 

He  turned  a  scornful  look  upon  her.  "And  what  do 
you  want  ?  "  he  growled. 


THE  OVERTHROW   OF   HUMPHREY  299 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  that  I  have  come  into  possession 
of  a  piece  of  information  which  directly  concerns  you, 
and  that  I  have  come  to  warn  you.  A  number  of  men 
are  coming  here  to-night  to  tar  and  feather  you  and  ride 
you  on  a  rail  out  of  the  settlement,  and  if  they  do  not 
find  you  to-night,  it  will  be  some  other  night ;  they  are 
in  earnest,  and  there  are  too  many  of  them  for  you  to 
defy." 

"And  you're  here  to  tell  me  this  so  that  I  can  git 
out  ?  "  He  laughed  mockingly.  "  That's  a  fine  scheme 
of  yours,  but  it  won't  work." 

"  But  it  is  true."  Agnes  was  discouraged  by  this 
way  of  treating  her  facts. 

"  So  you  say.  I've  had  folks  try  to  skeer  me  before, 
but  it  don't  do.  Here  I  stop  and  there's  nobody  can 
budge  me." 

"Ah,  but  — oh,  tell  him  Carter." 

"  I  assure  you,  sir,"  said  Carter,  in  a  rage  that  any  one 
should  dare  to  doubt  a  lady's  word,  "  I  assure  you  that 
what  Miss  Kennedy  says  is  strictly  true.  I  can  vouch 
for  her  word." 

"  And  who  are  you  that  I  should  believe  you  either  ?" 

Carter's  hand  flew  to  his  pistols.  "  I  am  a  Virginian, 
and  a  gentleman.  You  shall  answer  to  me  for  your  in- 
sults, sir.  Miss  Kennedy,  I  insist  that  you  retire.  No 
further  speech  is  necessary  with  this  — 

"  Stop  a  minute,  Carter,"  Agnes  interrupted  him.  "  I 
did  not  expect  to  be  met  with  courtesy.  I  told  you  that. 


300  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

It  is  not  for  your  sake,  Humphrey  Muirhead,  that  I  tell 
you  this ;  I  have  taken  the  trouble  to  come  here  for 
Honey's  sake  and  for  your  wife's."  She  laid  her  hand 
on  the  child's  head,  "  And  I  swear  to  you  by  the  affec- 
tion I  have  for  this  dear,  innocent  child,  that  what  I  say 
is  absolutely  true.  I  know  that  we  will  profit  by  your 
going,  but  you  will  have  to  go  sometime  if  not  to-morrow 
or  a  week  from  now  —  you  know  that." 

"  I  don't  know  it,"  returned  Humphrey,  grimly. 

"  You'll  be  put  out  if  you  don't  get  out,"  put  in  Carter, 
hastily.  "  There  are  enough  men  about  here  to  accom- 
plish it  without  much  trouble." 

"  Some  of  'em  will  never  try  it  agin,"  persisted  Hum- 
phrey. "  I've  held  out  against  the  Injuns,  and  I 
guess  I  kin  hold  out  against  white  men  by  force  of 
arms." 

"  O  dear !  he  is  hopeless,"  cried  Agnes.  "  What  can 
I  do  to  make  him  see  his  danger  ? " 

"  Don't  try,"  said  Carter,  curtly. 

"  But  I  must.  He  may  defy  the  law,  and  he  may 
commit  murder,  but  it  will  be  worse  for  him  in  the  end. 
Can't  you  see  that  ?  Oh,  you  foolish,  foolish  man,  can't 
you  see  that  it  will  be  worse  for  you  if  you  stay  ?  What 
if  you  do  succeed  for  a  time  in  keeping  away  these  men, 
you  cannot  do  it  for  long,  and  your  days  will  be  miser- 
able, for  you  will  be  watched  and  hunted  till  you  have  to 
give  up  at  last.  And  if  you  commit  murder  in  trying 
to  prevent  attack,  you  will  have  to  suffer  a  double  pen- 


THE   OVERTHROW   OF   HUMPHREY  301 

alty,  that  which  they  intend  for  you  now  and  that  which 
the  law  metes  out  to  a  murderer.  Oh,  can't  you  see  ? " 
Agnes  spoke  in  an  imploring  voice,  but  seemed  to  make 
no  impression  upon  Humphrey.  She  clasped  Honey  in 
her  arms.  "  Honey,  Honey,  oh,  dear  little  lad,  tell  your 
father  that  it  is  all  true  !  Ask  him  for  your  sake  —  say 
it  Honey,  say,  '  Dad,  for  Honey's  sake.' ' 

"  Dad,  for  Honey's  sake,"  obediently  repeated  the 
child,  in  his  little  persuasive  voice. 

The  man's  eyes  sought  the  face  of  his  little  son,  and 
he  stood  looking  gloomily  toward  the  pair,  Agnes  kneel- 
ing there  with  her  arms  around  Honey. 

A  long  silence  ensued,  at  last  broken  by  Humphrey. 
"  I  believe  ye,  girl.  I  don't  see  why  ye  did  it,  unless 
because  of  the  young  un  there,  but  I  reckon  you're  right, 
and  it's  all  up  with  me.  Maybe  I  ought  to  thank  ye, 
but  I  feel  more  like—  "  he  paused  really  abashed  by 
the  expression  on  Carter's  face,  for  the  boy  was  glaring 
at  him  like  a  tiger.  "This  is  the  last  ye'll  see  of 
Honey,"  he  added  half  maliciously. 

Agnes  gathered  the  little  one  close  to  her.  "  Good- 
by,  and  God  bless  you,  dear  little  lad.  I  hope  you  will 
grow  up  to  be  a  good  man,  Honey.  You  will  forget  all 
about  your  Nanny,  but  she  will  never  forget  you. 
Come,  Carter."  She  made  no  further  appeal  to  the 
man  standing  there,  and  but  once  looked  back  after  she 
and  Carter  turned  to  go.  She  saw  that  he  had  gathered 
the  child  into  his  arms  and  his  head  was  bent  upon  that 


302  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

of  his  little  son.  A  real  compassion  for  him  filled 
Agnes's  heart.  "  I  can't  help  feeling  sorry,"  she 
murmured. 

"Sorry  for  that  brute?  I'd  like  to  have  called  the 
coward  out,"  cried  Carter.  "  The  idea  of  his  daring  to 
address  a  lady  in  such  fashion.  If  you  had  not  re- 
strained me,  Agnes  —  " 

"  You  would  have  fought  him  then  and  there.  Yes,  I 
know,  and  have  given  your  mother  cause  to  mourn  the 
loss  of  a  son  more  chivalrous  than  discreet.  I  thank 
you  for  your  knightly  intention,  Sir  Carter,  but  I  think, 
in  this  instance,  discretion  was  the  better  part  of  valor, 
don't  you  ?  " 

"  Agnes,  if  any  one  were  to  present  you  to  my  mother, 
and  tell  her  that  you  were  a  backwoods  girl,  she  would 
scarce  believe  it." 

"  She  would  not,  and  why  ? " 

"  Not  because  there  are  not  some  here  worthy  of 
being  called  gentle,  but  it  isn't  the  usual  type ;  you  are 
more  like  my  own  people,  like  gentlefolk." 

"And  are  there,  then,  no  gentlefolk  among  the  Scotch- 
Irish  ?  " 

"  Many,  no  doubt,  but  they  lose  their  manners  when 
they  are  let  loose  in  the  wilderness.  I  do  not  know 
what  they  have  been  at  home,  but  they  certainly  are  a 
rough  lot  out  here." 

"  Not  all,  I  hope." 

"  Surely  not  all,  for  look  at  your  mother  ;  but  on  the 


THE  OVERTHROW  OF  HUMPHREY     303 

other  hand,  look  at  Polly  O'Neill,  and  Tibby  McKnight, 
and  Mydie  McShane." 

"  Oh,  if  you  take  them  for  examples,  it  may  be  true 
that  there  is  an  excuse  for  you  to  criticise,  yet  we're  all 
one  out  here,  and  you'll  be  counted  in  with  Humphrey 
Muirhead  and  Jimmy  O'Neill  yourself  one  of  these 
days,"  she  told  him,  teasingly.  She  was  happy  now 
that  she  had  succeeded  in  her  errand,  and  could  afford 
to  joke. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

DR.  FLINT 

IT  was  a  few  days  later  that  Dr.  Flint  appeared 
again.  In  the  meantime  Agnes  had  been  aware 
of  a  midnight  expedition,  in  which  Jimmy  O'Neill  had 
taken  part,  and  from  which  he  had  returned  the  next 
morning  in  as  bad  a  humor  as  Jimmy  could  be  in. 
Agnes  heard  his  answer  to  a  whisper  from  Polly,  "  Cleared 
out,"  he  said,  and  the  girl  knew  to  whom  he  referred. 

After  breakfast,  Dr.  Flint  came  riding  up.  He  and 
Jimmy  had  a  conference  down  at  the  blacksmith  shop, 
and  after  leaving  his  hor^e  there  the  doctor  made  his 
way  up  to  the  house  where  Agnes  met  him. 

"  Well,  Miss  Agnes,  I  think  you'll  be  moving  across 
the  river  before  long,"  was  the  doctor's  greeting. 

A  smile  flashed  across  Agnes's  face.  The  doctor 
laughed.  "  Oh,  you  little  marplot,"  he  said,  lowering 
his  voice,  "it  was  you  who  spoiled  our  little  game,  I 
know,  though  nobody  but  myself  suspects.  Our  bird 
has  flown,  and  I  think  I  could  put  my  finger  on  the 
one  who  gave  the  warning.  I  think  we  have  to  thank 
Miss  Agnes  Kennedy  for  a  part  in  that  transaction. 
Didn't  you  tell?" 

"  Suppose  I  did ;  it  was  a  better  way  to  get  rid  of 

304 


DR.   FLINT  305 

him  than  the  other,  though  but  for  knowing  your  inten- 
tion I  suppose  he  would  have  still  held  out." 

"Well,  he's  off  for  good  and  all.  He  must  have 
skurried  things  together  in  a  hasty  fashion,  for  the 
house  is  cleared  of  anything  valuable,  and  there's  not  a 
head  of  live  stock  left  on  the  place.  He'd  no  right  to 
the  cattle  ;  but  he'd  not  stand  at  that,  and  I  suppose 
would  have  taken  the  house  if  he  could  have  carried  it ; 
it  is  a  wonder  he  didn't  set  fire  to  it." 

"  I  suppose  he  thought  if  he  did  that  it  would  bring 
discovery  upon  him,  and  prevent  his  getting  away  as 
secretly  as  he  wished." 

"You  are  right  there;  it  is  strange  how  a  woman 
will  instinctively  penetrate  into  a  motive.  What  time 
were  you  there  ? " 

"  How  do  you  know  I  was  there  at  all  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  know,  but  never  mind;  it's  of  no  consequence 
now.  How  is  your  father  ? " 

"  About  as  usual." 

"  We'll  see  to  him  when  you  get  moved  and  settled. 
I  would  like  to  have  a  word  with  your  mother  if  she's 
not  busy." 

Agnes  ushered  him  in,  and  went  to  call  her  mother, 
rejoicing  in  the  fact  that  there  had  been  neither  blood- 
shed nor  cruelty  necessary  for  the  overthrow  of  Hum- 
phrey Muirhead,  and  that  they  could  take  peaceable 
possession  of  their  own  with  no  distressing  associations 
to  mar  the  pleasure  of  the  removal. 


306  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

A  few  days  after  this  she  learned  from  Carter  that 
Humphrey  had  loaded  several  pack-horses,  gathered  his 
stock  together,  and  had  started  through  the  woods  to  a 
lonely  spot  where  he  encamped.  He  next  looked  about 
for  a  flat-boat,  and  securing  one  from  a  newly  arrived 
settler  farther  up  the  river,  he  set  out  for  Kentucky, 
where  his  wife's  family  lived,  and  so  no  more  was  heard 
of  him.  :( 

"  How  did  you  find  it  all  out  ? "  Agnes  asked. 

"  Oh,  everybody  knows  now.  The  man  he  bought 
the  flat-boat  from  told  Si  Fulton,  and  Si  told  somebody 
else,  and  so  it  got  around.  I  am  just  waiting  now, 
Agnes,  for  the  day  when  you  will  be  next-door  neigh- 
bors. When  are  you  going  to  move  in  ?  " 

"  Oh,  soon.  Uncle  Dod  has  been  over  to  see  us,  and 
he  says  there  will  be  no  difficulty  in  our  taking  posses- 
sion as  soon  as  we  want  to.  Jimmy  O'Neill  has  always 
wanted  to  have  this  place,  and  it  was  settled  long  ago 
that  he  would  buy  it  when  we  gave  it  up.  I  am  glad 
he  and  Polly  are  going  to  keep  on  living  here,  for  I 
love  it."  She  looked  around  pensively,  and  her  eyes 
lingered  upon  each  homely  detail. 

"  It's  a  nice  little  place,  but  it  doesn't  compare  to  the 
other.  What's  to  be  done  before  you  can  come  over  ? 
Can't  I  help  so  as  to  hurry  up  things  a  little  ? " 

"  I  think  you  have  enough  to  do  as  it  is." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  haven't.  I  am  simply  holding  on  till 
Park  comes  back  or  gives  it  up;  I  am  not  trying  to 


DR.   FLINT  307 

do  more  than  live  there.  What's  to  be  done  at  your 
grandfather's  place  ? " 

"The  house  is  to  be  whitewashed  and  cleaned,  and 
things  straightened  up  generally.  I  don't  know  of 
anything  in  particular.  I  think  we  may  go  next  week ; 
mother  is  anxious  to  get  settled."  She  gave  a  little 
sigh.  After  all,  this  realization  of  her  dream  did  not 
bring  the  pleasure  of  anticipation ;  it  would  be  strangely 
unfamiliar,  and  there  would  be  no  happy  associations 
connected  with  that  house  across  the  river.  It  would 
be  farther  away  from  church,  and  from  Jeanie;  and 
Agnes  realized  as  she  never  did  before  that  there 
would  be  a  real  tearing  up  of  the  roots  when  it  came 
time  to  go. 

"  Are  you  going  to  have  a  housewarming  ? "  asked 
Carter,  eager  for  fun. 

Agnes  shook  her  head.  "  Not  now ;  after  a  while, 
maybe." 

"  But  doesn't  every  one  have  them  when  they  first 
move  in  ? " 

"  We  will  not,  for  it  is  neither  a  new  house  nor  are 
we  newcomers.  We  are  anxious  to  get  settled  and 
have  everything  as  quiet  as  possible  for  father,  and 
when  he  is  better  we  shall  feel  like  having  a  jollifica- 
tion." 

"  I  had  a  letter  from  Park  yesterday,"  said  Carter, 
taking  a  folded  sheet  from  out  his  hunting-shirt 

"  What  does  he  say  ? "  Agnes  asked,  her  heart  beat- 


308  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

ing  high  at  sight  of  the  familiar  writing.  "Is  he 
coming  back  ? " 

"  He  doesn't  say  anything  about  it.  His  mother  is 
failing  rapidly.  He  gave  me  some  directions  about 
the  place,  and  told  me  some  home  news;  he  sent  his 
respects  to  all.  Oh,  yes,"  Carter's  eyes  scanned  the 
sheet,  "  he  wants  to  know  if  you  are  married  yet." 

"  What  did  you  tell  him  ?  "  Agnes  asked  eagerly. 

Carter  laughed.  "  I  haven't  told  him  anything  yet. 
You  didn't  suppose  I'd  write  within  twenty-four  hours, 
did  you?" 

Agnes  colored  up.  "  Oh,  no,  of  course  not.  I  didn't 
think." 

"  But  I  know  what  I  shall  tell  him,"  said  Carter,  teas- 
ingly. 

"What?" 

"  That  you're  going  to  be." 

"Oh,  you  must  not.  Don't  you  dare  to,  Carter 
Ritchie.  — What  is  it,  Margret?" 

"  Mother  wants  you  a  moment,"  answered  the  little 
girl. 

"Then  you'll  have  to  stay  out  here  and  talk  to  me, 
Margret,"  said  Carter;  "I'm  not  going  to  be  left 
alone." 

Margret  gave  him  a  shy  glance.  She  was  a  pretty 
little  girl,  now  about  thirteen  years  of  age,  a  demure 
quiet  body,  but  possessed  of  a  steadiness  and  force  that 
did  not  at  first  appear.  No  one  could  manage  and  en- 


DR.   FLINT  309 

tertain  the  children  as  Margret  did.  Carter  coaxed  her 
to  come  out  and  sit  by  him  while  Agnes  went  indoors, 
and  when  the  latter  came  out  she  found  the  two  on  the 
best  of  terms.  Carter  was  telling  about  the  place  across 
the  river.  "  I'll  about  live  at  your  house,"  he  announced 
to  Agnes.  "  I  wish  you'd  hurry  up  and  come." 

There  seemed  to  be  a  great  deal  to  be  crowded  into 
the  next  few  weeks,  for  first  Archie  started  for  Canons- 
burg,  and  then  came  preparations  for  the  removing. 
Many  a  trip  did  Carter  and  Agnes  make  with  coops  of 
chickens  balanced  on  the  little  boat,  or  family  stuffs  of 
different  kinds  stowed  away  as  best  they  could  be,  and 
then  came  the  day  when  the  last  good-bys  were  said, 
and  Polly  running  over  with  tears  fell  on  their  necks 
and  mourned  the  departure. 

"  I'll  be  sore  weary  for  ye,  Nancy,"  she  said ;  "  ye've 
been  like  me  ain  sister,  an'  we've  been  togither  through 
thick  an'  thin  this  manny's  the  long  day  now,  an'  I'll 
no  have  a  song  on  me  lips  for  a  dale  o'  morrows.  I 
beeta  come  over  often,  an'  no  doubt  I'll  be  neglectin'  me 
work  an'  me  bairns,  I'll  be  sae  sore  for  a  sight  o'  ye." 

"  Dear  Polly,"  Agnes  returned,  the  tears  in  her  own 
eyes.  "  I'll  miss  you,  too,  Polly,  and  I  shall  come  over 
often.  Ah,  Polly,  I'm  no  glad  to  be  going.  As  the 
song  says,  '  Manny  a  canty  day  we've  had  wi'  ane 
anither.' "  The  tears  rolled  down  the  girl's  cheeks, 
but  Sandy  and  Jock  and  Jessie,  and  even  Margret,  were 
eager  for  the  change,  and  were  back  and  forth  a  dozen 


3IO  A   GENTLE    PIONEER 

times  before  they  crossed  the  river  for  good  and  all. 
Agnes  was  the  last  to  leave.  She  lingered  around  as 
if  she  could  not  say  farewell.  The  homely  spot  was 
crowded  with  associations,  and  not  till  now  did  she 
know  how  much  she  loved  it. 

But  at  last  she  gave  Polly  and  the  children  a  parting 
hug,  and  sprang  into  the  boat  which  Sandy  had  brought 
over,  having  delivered  his  other  passengers,  and  the  last 
sight  of  Polly  showed  the  good  woman  standing  with 
her  apron  to  her  eyes. 

It  seemed  quite  palatial  in  their  new  home  with  its 
big  rooms,  now  fresh  and  clean.  Here  and  there  could 
be  seen  from  the  house  reaches  of  cleared  land,  and  the 
forest  seemed  to  recede  to  a  great  distance  from  the 
house,  though  a  few  tall  trees  were  left  for  shade ;  but 
after  the  small  cabin  they  had  been  living  in,  with  its 
girdle  of  forest  trees  so  near,  this  gave  the  impression 
of  much  more  room  both  outside  and  in. 

"  Isn't  it  big  and  fine  ? "  said  Jessie.  "  Oh,  what  a  big 
fireplace,  and  real  steps,  not  a  ladder  to  go  upstairs," 
and  eager  feet  were  soon  patting  all  over  the  house, 
Sandy  and  Jack  meanwhile  exploring  the  whole  place,  — 
the  comfortable  barn,  the  cow-shed  now  housing  two 
new  cows,  the  garden,  the  corn-field  where  pumpkins 
were  yellowing,  and  the  truck  patch  where  a  few  pota- 
toes and  turnips  awaited  gathering.  It  is  true  that 
Humphrey  had  been  careful  to  possess  himself  of  all 
fruits  of  his  labor  that  time  would  allow  him  to  get  to- 


DR.   FLINT  311 

gether,  and  had  destroyed  some  things  which  might 
have  been  of  use,  but  his  time  was  short,  and  there  were 
still  apples  reddening  in  the  sun  and  a  haymow  un- 
touched. 

Mrs.  Kennedy  stood  at  the  door  looking  out.  Her 
face  was  very  sad.  From  this  spot  her  father  had  gone 
forth  to  captivity  and  death  ;  all  this  fair  homestead 
had  been  his,  and  he  had  hoped  to  live  here  to  a  good 
old  age.  Agnes  linked  her  arm  within  her  mother's. 
"  How  do  you  like  it,  mother  dear  ?  Is  it  not  a  pleasant 
spot  ?  It  is  home  for  the  rest  of  our  lives." 

"  For  the  rest  of  my  life  and  for  yours,  too,  perhaps. 
Does  your  father  seem  satisfied  ?  I  have  not  seen  him 
for  the  past  hour ;  I  have  been  so  busy  setting  things 
to  rights." 

"  He  is  with  the  boys  and  they  are  exploring  every 
corner.  Father  understands  that  this  is  home ;  in  some 
way  he  connected  it  with  East  Pennsborough  and  asks 
such  funny  questions  :  Who  cut  down  the  butternut  tree 
by  the  spring  ?  and  what  has  become  of  old  Whitey  ? 
He  is  a  little  bewildered  yet,  but  he  will  be  very  con- 
tent, I  am  sure." 

Her  mother  sighed.  "  He  seems  like  a  son  rather 
than  a  husband.  I  miss  him,  oh,  I  miss  him  as  he  was. 
Those  old  endearing  words,  those  little  speeches  of 
appreciation  that  a  woman  loves,  never  come  to  his 
lips  now.  He  was  always  such  a  loving  husband." 

"  But  he  loves  you  now." 


312  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  As  a  child  would.  He  likes  to  sit  by  my  side,  to 
have  me  minister  to  him,  to  have  me  tell  him  what 
to  do,  ^o  unravel  the  puzzles  that  confront  him  so 
often,  but  that  is  all." 

Agnes  understood.  What  her  mother  said  was  quite 
true.  "  But,  mother,  listen,"  she  said  cheerfully,  "  now 
Dr.  Flint  can  come ;  you  know  he  said  it  would  be  best 
to  wait  till  we  could  be  where  father  could  have  more 
quiet,  and  now  we  shall  not  have  dear  old  noisy  Polly, 
nor  Jimmy,  nor  the  bairns.  I  will  tell  you  how  we  will 
manage  :  Margret  can  help  me,  and  Jessie  can  look 
after  Fergus,  he  is  old  enough  now  to  know  he  must 
not  make  a  noise  if  he  is  told  to  keep  still,  and  the  boys 
can  do  the  outdoor  work.  I  can  do  what  needs  to  be 
done  indoors,  and  that  will  leave  you  to  nurse  father." 

Her  mother  gave  a  little  convulsive  shudder. 

"  I  know,"  Agnes  went  on,  "  I  feel  so  too ;  but  Dr. 
Flint  says  he  can  assure  us  that  the  chances  are  very 
good,  and  oh,  if  it  should  be  all  right,  the  joy  of  it !  " 

"  Ay,  the  joy  of  it !  That  is  what  will  bear  us  up. 
I  hope  we  can  have  confidence  in  Dr.  Flint ;  he  is  looked 
on  suspiciously  by  some  of  the  neighbors." 

"  Yes,  that  is  true,  but  I  do  not  think  for  any  good 
reason.  There  come  father  and  the  boys." 

"  Bid  them  come  in  to  supper." 

It  was  in  September  that  the  family  took  possession 
of  their  new  home,  and  a  couple  of  weeks  later  Dr. 
Flint  came  and  took  up  his  abode  with  them  till  he 


DR.    FLINT  313 

should  see  Mr.  Kennedy  safely  through  the  critical 
ordeal.  The  dwellers  in  the  settlement  generally  stood 
aloof  from  this  man,  not  because  of  his  unfortunate 
record  or  because  of  the  fatal  incident  that  came  so 
near  losing  him  his  life,  but  these  Scotch-Irish  were  a 
God-fearing  folk,  and  were  fond  of  expressing  their 
views  upon  portions  of  the  Scripture,  and  were  wont 
to  discuss  religion  upon  every  occasion.  Henry  Flint 
never  joined  in  these  discussions;  he  never  went  to 
church,  and  it  was  believed  that  he  was  sceptical  of 
those  things  which  were  as  real  to  the  sturdy  believers 
of  Presbyterian  faith  as  was  the  fact  of  their  own 
existence.  It  was  said  that  he  read  books  which  at 
that  time  were  spoken  of  only  with  bated  breath. 
"  He's  amaist  an  atheist,  I  hear,"  whispered  one  neigh- 
bor to  another,  and  therefore  there  were  those  who 
shook  their  heads  when  it  was  known  that  he  would 
try  his  skill  upon  Fergus  Kennedy. 

For  days  the  children  tiptoed  about  the  house  when 
they  were  allowed  in  it  at  all.  On  pleasant  days  Jessie 
took  Fergus  out  where  Sandy  and  Jock  could  watch 
over  both  little  ones,  and  on  rainy  days  the  barn  was 
their  shelter.  Margret  helped  Agnes  indoors,  and 
over  her  husband  Mrs.  Kennedy  kept  watch  night  and 
day,  sharing  her  vigil,  at  first,  only  with  the  doctor. 
Later  on  good  neighbors  were  prompt  to  offer  their  aid, 
Mrs.  M'Clean,  Jeanie,  or  Dod  Hunter's  wife.  Carter 
made  his  appearance  every  day  with  proffers  of  help. 


314  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

Jerry  Hunter  and  Jimmy  O'Neill  directed  the  two  lads, 
who  were  trying  to  do  the  work  of  men  on  the  farm, 
and  many  a  good  day's  work  did  this  or  that  neighbor 
do  for  them. 

Polly,  striving  desperately  to  moderate  her  tones,  came 
very  often,  and  stealthily  carried  off  piles  of  thread  to 
be  woven,  or  rolls  of  cloth  to  be  dyed.  She  would  do 
her  part  even  though  a  place  by  the  bedside  was  denied 
her.  She  was  a  good  nurse,  and  Agnes  was  afraid  she 
might  feel  hurt  at  their  refusal  of  her  offers  of  assist- 
ance, but  that  was  not  like  Polly ;  she  was  quite  as 
honest  to  herself  as  she  was  to  others.  "  It's  the  wife's 
right,"  she  acknowledged,  "  an'  I've  a  heavy  tread,  an' 
am  no  so  soft-voiced  as  some,  an'  it's  quiet  he's  wantin', 
they  say.  I  mind  it's  aye  that  way  when  there's  aught 
wrong  with  the  head."  She  spoke  to  Agnes. 

"  That  is  the  important  thing ;  absolute  quiet,"  the 
girl  replied,  half  apologetically.  "  We  have  to  walk  on 
tiptoe,  and  Margret  and  I  scarce  speak  above  a  whisper 
when  we're  working  about." 

"  An'  will  he  have  his  wits  agin  ?" 

"  We  hope  so,  oh,  we  hope  so." 

"  Yer  mother's  growin'  pale  wid  the  watchin',  an' 
ye're  thin  yersel',  Nancy,  wi'  the  hard  wark  ye've 
had." 

"  Never  mind  me.  I  am  well,  but  it's  hard  for  mother, 
who  is  not  used  to  being  housed." 

Polly  gave  a  sigh.     "  I  miss  ye  all,  Nancy,  an'  though 


DR.    FLINT  315 

I  don't  begrutch  ye  comin'  to  yer  ain,  I'm  wishful  fur 
ye  ivery  morn  that  comes.  Do  ye  mind  how  I  used  to 
stir  ye  up  wi  a  stick  o'  mornin's  when  ye  would  over- 
slape  ?  Ah,"  Polly  shook  her  head,  "  them  was  good 
times  we  had  togither.  Ye've  not  set  fut  on  the  place 
sin'  ye  lef  it." 

"  How  could  I,  Polly,  with  so  much  to  do  ? " 

"  Ye  could  not,  fur  a  fact ;  it's  the  truth  ye're  tellin', 
fur  ye  don't  get  to  meetin'  o'  Sabbaths." 

"  No,  but  the  minister  has  been  here  several  times, 
and  every  one  is  so  kind." 

"  Why  wouldn't  they  be  ?  Was  ye  iver*  any  thin'  else 
but  kind  yersel'  ?  I  tell  ye,  though,  the  men  were  all 
cross-eyed  wid  mad,  an'  grumpy  as  bears  whin  they 
come  back  from  huntin'  Hump  Muirhead.  They  beeta 
say  that  ye  was  a  blessed  lass  fur  returnin'  good  fur 
evil,  an'  they  says,  Jimmy  tells  me,  that  ye  put  them 
all  to  shame  by  gettin'  him  to  go,  along  o'  yer  gentle 
coaxin's  an'  pleadin's." 

"  How  could  they  know  that  ? " 

"Can  ye  see  through  a  millstone  wid  a  hole  in  it? 
They  beeta  know,  fur  they  puts  this  and  that  together, 
an'  gets  a.  holt  o'  it." 

"  It  was  Carter  that  told,  I  do  believe." 

"  If  he  did,  it  was  no  till  the  settlemint  was  shet  o' 
Hump,  an'  then  he  couldn't  houd  his  blather.  He  said 
ye'd  made  him  give  a  promise  not  to  tell,  but  that  it  was 
no  saycret  an'  why  should  he  thry  to  kape  what  was 


316  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

common  property  ?  He's  a  great  wan  to  talk,  is  Carter, 
an'  he  sang  yer  praises  to  the  tune  av  half  an  hour  at 
the  shop,  that  I  know.  So  be,  Nancy,  as  ye  know  it's 
no  saycret  anny  longer,  jist  tell  me  the  rights  av  it." 
And  Agnes  gave  an  account  of  her  interview  with  her 
uncle,  Polly  making  her  comments  freely. 

"Carter's  a  gintleman,"  she  declared,  "an'  I'll  give 
him  a  good  thwack  whin  I  see  him,  for  he  niver  told 
me  his  part.  He  was  fair  achin'  fur  a  fight,  I  can  see." 
Polly  spoke  in  tones  of  admiration.  "  Nothin'  would 
ha'  plazed  me  better  than  to  know  he  gave  Hump  a 
good  lambastin'." 

"  Imagine  Carter  trying  to  whip  Hump  Muirhead." 

"  It's  not  always  the  big  dog  that  wins  the  fight." 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  very  glad  it  did  not  come  out  so.  I 
think  the  best  part  was  that  Carter  would  do  nothing 
belligerent  on  my  account.  Well,  Polly,  it  is  all  done 
with  now,  and  we  are  safely  here  under  our  own  roof." 

"  Have  ye  heerd  from  Archie  ? " 

"  Not  a  line." 

Polly  laughed.     "  I've  a  notion  ye'll  not." 

"  And  why  ?  "     Agnes  was  a  little  offended. 

"  We  hear  enough,"  was  Polly's  reply,  given  with  an 
air  of  mystery.  She  put  her  hand  over  her  mouth  to 
check  the  laugh  that  would  come,  and  at  the  same  time 
she  cast  an  anxious  glance  at  the  windows  of  Mrs.  Ken- 
nedy's room. 

"  Now,  Polly,  tell  me  what  you  mean." 


DR.    FLINT  317 

"Go  'long  wid  ye;  I'll  have  me  saycrits,  too;  ye've 
had  yours,  an'  have  no  call  to  expect  me  to  tell  ye." 

With  this  Agnes  had  to  be  satisfied.  She  parted 
with  Polly  at  the  gate  where  they  had  been  standing, 
and  promised,  as  soon  as  she  could,  that  she  would 
certainly  come  over  to  see  her  old  friend. 

"I've  said  the  thing  that'll  fetch  her,"  said  Polly, 
chuckling  to  herself  as  she  went  on  toward  home. 

In  truth,  Polly  had  succeeded  in  arousing  the  girl's 
curiosity,  for  the  first  question  that  she  asked  Jeanie 
when  the  two  met  was,  "  Have  you  heard  from  Archie 
lately  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Jeanie,  hesitatingly  and  with  a  quick, 
embarrassed  glance  at  Agnes. 

"  And  is  he  doing  well  ?    Does  he  like  Canonsburg  ? " 

"Yes;"  then  after  a  pause,  "you  haven't  heard  from 
him,  Agnes?" 

"  Not  a  line." 

Jeanie  looked  thoughtful.  "  You  still  insist  that  you 
do  not  care  for  Archie  except  as  a  friend  ?  Is  that  so, 
Nancy  ?  Did  you  keep  to  that  when  Archie  left  ? " 

"  Yes,  and  I  still  say  so." 

"  Do  you  like  Carter  Ritchie  ?  " 

"  Oh,  very  much.     We  are  good  friends,  too." 

"  He  is  very  fond  of  gallanting  around  with  the 
girls  " 

"  Yes,  and  I  think  it  is  perfectly  natural.  There  is 
safety  in  numbers,  I  tell  him." 


318  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

"  Then  you  don't  mind  ? " 

"  Oh,  no." 

"  Would  you  mind  if  Archie  did  ?  " 

"  Did  what  ?  Gallanted  around  with  the  girls  ?  It 
isn't  his  way,  but  if  he  did  I  should  think  —  I  mean  if 
he  were  attentive  to  any  one  lass,  I  should  think  it 
meant  something  serious." 

Jeanie  laughed  a  little  consciously.  "  It  is  strange 
what  gossiping  nonsense  one  hears.  I  don't  listen  to 
it  all,  do  you,  Nancy  ? " 

"  Why,  I  suppose  I  listen,  but  I  don't  heed  it  always. 
What  tale  have  you  been  hearing,  Jeanie  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing  of  any  consequence.  Tell  me  of  your 
father,  Nancy." 

"He  is  steadily  improving ;  the  bandages  are  to  be 
taken  off  to-morrow.  There  is  no  fever  now,  and  the 
doctor  thinks  there  is  no  further  cause  for  anxiety ;  but 
he  will  not  let  father  talk,  and  we  cannot  tell  how  far 
the  trial  has  been  successful." 

"  That  is  very  good  as  far  as  it  goes.  Would  you 
like  me  to  stay  and  help  to-night  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you ;  there  is  no  need.  He  sleeps  well 
now,  and  Mrs.  Hunter  will  be  here." 

"  Then  I  will  go  back  to  my  man.  Come  and  see  me 
as  soon  as  you  can.  Every  one  is  rejoicing  that  you  are 
so  well  settled." 

Agnes  puzzled  over  the  mystery  which  seemed  to 
have  arisen  in  Archie's  quarter ;  but  she  was  too  busy 


DR.   FLINT  319 

to  think  very  long  upon  it,  and  told  herself  that  she 
could  afford  to  wait  till  some  one  should  tell  her  what 
it  all  meant. 

The  next  day  the  bandages  were  removed,  and  for 
some  days  after  the  patient  was  kept  very  quiet  and  not 
allowed  to  talk  much,  but  his  eyes  followed  his  wife 
as  she  moved  about  the  room.  There  was  a  new  ex- 
pression of  intelligence  in  them  which  the  doctor  was 
quick  to  note.  It  was  one  morning  at  early  dawn  that 
he  said  weakly,  "  Margaret." 

Mrs.  Kennedy  came  to  the  bedside  and  looked  lov- 
ingly into  the  pale  face.  "  Fergus,  my  man,"  she  said 
softly. 

"  Margaret,  Margaret,  my  ain  han's  morrow,  my  ain 
han's  morrow,"  he  said  weakly,  putting  out  his  fingers 
to  seek  her  hand.  And  then  the  wife  sank  on  her  knees 
and  brokenly  sobbed  out  her  full  heart  in  a  psalm  of 
praise,  "  I  will  bless  the  Lord  at  all  times  ;  his  praise 
shall  continually  be  in  my  mouth."  The  sick  man  took 
up  the  words  and  followed  her  faintly,  "  This  poor  man 
cried  and  the  Lord  heard  him,  and  saved  him  out  of  his 
troubles." 

Dr.  Flint  stood  with  bowed  head  listening.  There 
was  something  that  touched  him  to  the  very  core  of 
his  being  in  this  renewed  union  of  husband  and  wife. 
There  was  a  look  of  exaltation  on  the  woman's  face, 
and  the  man  clasping  her  hand  bent  on  her  eyes  full 
of  trustful  love.  They  seemed  to  forget  him ;  they  were 


320  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

together  in  the  presence  of  a  higher  power,  which  at 
that  moment  it  seemed  impossible  to  ignore  or  to  dis- 
trust, and  he,  the  man  who  doubted,  who  had  told  him- 
self that  there  was  no  all-guiding  hand,  followed  the 
.words  of  the  faithful  as  they  poured  them  forth  in 
the  Presence,  and  at  the  end  he  said  devoutly, 
"Amen." 


CHAPTER  XX 

HER  HEART'S   DESIRE 

IT  was,  of  course,  weeks  before  Fergus  Kennedy 
could  take  his  place  among  his  fellow-men;  there 
was  still  need  for  quiet,  and  he  was  spared  much  ex- 
citement, so  that  only  at  intervals  were  his  friends 
allowed  to  see  him.  Joseph  M'Clean,  the  minister, 
Jimmy  O'Neill,  one  by  one  were  admitted  to  the  sick 
room,  and  at  last  it  was  permitted  that  the  restored 
man  should  be  allowed  to  go  to  church  ;  it  was  the 
thing  he  most  desired  to  do.  All  around  the  settlement 
the  news  had  flown :  Fergus  Kennedy  has  his  wits 
again,  and  the  little  log  structure  was  crowded  to  over- 
flowing that  Sabbath.  It  was  the  thirty-fourth  psalm 
which  was  lined  out  from  Rouse's  version,  the  same 
psalm  that  had  come  from  the  full  heart  of  the  wife 
who  desired  to  give  thanks.  It  was  a  simple  and 
touching  service,  but  to  none  more  so  than  to  Henry 
Flint,  who  sat  for  the  first  time  under  the  roof  of  the 
little  log  church.  He  was  scarcely  less  observed  than 
Fergus  Kennedy,  at  whose  side  he  sat,  and  when  the 
names  of  those  who  desired  to  unite  with  the  church  by 
letter  or  by  profession  of  faith  were  read  out,  there  was 
Y  321 


322  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

a  perceptible  stir  among  the  congregation  when  Henry 
Flint's  was  spoken.  No  one  knew  the  man's  intention 
except  Mrs.  Kennedy  and  the  minister  himself.  "  It 
was  a  good  woman's  prayers,  her  beautiful  faith  and 
trust,  which  I  had  daily  evidence  of,  that  at  last  brought 
me  light,"  said  the  doctor  to  the  minister,  and  the  good 
man  returned,  "  Ay,  many  a  puir  soul  has  been  brought 
home  by  the  gentle  leadings  of  a  woman,  Dr.  Flint." 

It  was  such  great  joy  to  see  her  father  regaining  his 
old  interest  in  life,  and  to  see  her  mother  so  beaming  of 
countenance  and  light  of  heart  that  it  seemed  to  Agnes 
as  if  it  would  be  ungrateful  in  her  to  consider  that  she 
had  any  trouble.  Time  did  not  dim  the  image  of 
Parker,  and  there  were  days  when  the  girl  would  go 
out  into  the  deep  woods,  and,  throwing  herself  prone 
on  the  ground,  would  weep  her  heart  out.  This  was 
generally  after  news  from  home  came  to  Carter,  such 
news  as  he  was  quick  to  retail  to  the  Kennedys,  at 
whose  house  he  was  a  daily  visitor.  Every  one  liked 
Carter,  and  his  sunny  presence  was  cheering  to  Agnes. 
She  dreaded,  yet  longed  to  know  of  those  letters  from 
Virginia;  they  always  brought  news  of  Parker,  and 
generally  it  was  told  that  every  one  wondered  if  he 
would  marry  Alicia  Southall.  She  had  a  string  of 
beaux,  Carter's  sister  wrote,  and  no  one  could  tell 
whom  she  favored,  though  it  was  a  well-known  fact 
that  she  had  taken  pains  to  lure  Parker  into  rejoining 
her  train. 


HER   HEART'S   DESIRE  323 

Agnes  remembered  the  pencil-sketch,  and  wondered 
if  Parker  regretted  its  destruction.  She  inwardly 
exulted  that  he  did  not  possess  it.  "  She  cannot  rob 
me  of  those  precious  hours,"  sighed  the  girl,  "even 
though  I  am  a  maiden  lorn  the  rest  of  my  life." 

These  thoughts  were  uppermost  as  she  took  her  way 
one  spring  day  to  the  river's  brink  to  go  over  to  Polly. 
She  had  never  returned  to  the  place  now  known  as 
O'Neill's  clearing,  and  Polly  chid  her  for  her  neglect. 
"You  must  go,"  her  mother  said;  "it  is  not  treating 
Polly  kindly.  Come,  dear,  it  will  do  you  good ;  the 
winter  is  over  and  there  is  no  longer  any  excuse.  You 
are  looking  a  little  doucy."  She  drew  her  close  and 
kissed  her.  "  Is  it  still  the  old  hurt,  dear  heart  ? " 

Agnes  gave  a  sigh.  "  I  try,  but  I  cannot  forget,  and 
the  crumbs  of  comfort  that  a  little  message  sometimes 
brings  me  has  been  denied  of  late,  for  it  is  a  long  time 
since  Carter  has  heard  from  his  cousin,  and  it  will  soon 
be  a  year,  a  year  in  June  since  he  went  away." 

"  Wait  patiently  on  the  Lord  and  he  will  give  thee 
thy  heart's  desire,"  said  her  mother. 

"  My  heart's  desire.  Oh,  mother,  if  I  could  believe 
that ! " 

"  If  it  is  well  for  you  to  have  it,  and  if  you  have  faith, 
it  will  be  yours." 

"Ah,  mother  dear,  I  wish  I  had  your  faith  and  trust." 

"  See  what  God  has  wrought  for  us  in  your  father's 
case.  Ah,  daughter,  when  I  think  of  that,  I  am  uplifted 


324  A   GENTLE   PIONEER 

on  the  very  heights  of  faith.  Go  on,  dear  lamb,  and  do 
not  be  cast  down.  Give  my  love  to  Polly." 

Agnes  started  on  and  was  soon  turning  her  steps 
toward  familiar  paths.  From  Jimmy's  blacksmith  shop 
came  the  sound  of  the  hammer  ringing  on  the  anvil ; 
from  farther  on  came  the  laughter  of  children  and 
Polly's  singing.  Agnes  stood  still  a  moment  and 
looked  around.  How  natural  it  did  seem  to  be  stand- 
ing there  on  the  hilltop  looking  toward  the  little  cabin. 
Would  she  ever  forget  that  morning  when  she  and 
Polly  had  frolicked  over  the  dye-kettle  ?  She  had  not 
been  so  care-free  since.  Down  the  hill  she  slowly 
walked,  and  when  within  a  few  rods  of  the  house 
Polly  caught  sight  of  her. 

"  Ay,  ye're  come  at  last,"  she  cried.  "  I'd  fain  have  ye 
to  know  that  I've  a  mind  not  to  speak  to  ye.  Bairns, 
here's  Nancy  at  last.  Ah,  ye  little  rid-headed  bawbee, 
I've  a  mind  to  shake  ye  for  stayin'  away  all  this  while, 
an'  me  wid  me  tongue  achin'  with  the  gossip  'ats  ready 
to  rin  from  it.  But  I  says  to  mesel',  I'll  niver  tell 
Nancy,  not  I,  if  I  niver  go  to  see  her;  not  till  she 
comes  to  see  her  auld  frind  will  she  hear  it." 

"  What  gossip,  Polly  ? " 

"  Then  ye've  not  heerd  ?  Good  luck,  I  say."  Polly 
lifted  her  hands  and  brought  them  down  on  her  knees 
as  she  sat  down  on  a  three-legged  stool  which  she 
dragged  forward.  "  Befoor  I'd  let  a  widdy  woman  cut 
me  out !  " 


HER  HEART'S   DESIRE  325 

"What  do  you  mean,  Polly?" 

Polly  rocked  herself  back  and  forth  in  silent  mirth. 
"  It's  all  over  the  settlemint  how  Archie  M'Clean's  at 
the  beck  an'  call  o'  a  rich  widdy  from  Pittsburg.  His 
grandf ether's  deid,  did  ye  hear  that?" 

"Yes,  I  did  hear  that." 

"  An*  lef '  Archie  the  half  his  estate,  bein'  so  pleased 
at  his  takin'  to  the  meenistry,  an'  Archie  comin'  back 
from  Carlisle  after  the  funeral  meets  the  widdy,  an'  she 
sets  her  cap  fur  him  from  the  start,  so  the  first  thing  the 
lad  knows  he's  well  in  the  meshes.  They  say  she's  no 
so  ill  favored,  an'  that  there's  sure  to  be  a  weddin*  when 
Archie  gets  his  Reverend  tacked  on.  The  M' Cleans 
were  ill  pleased  at  first,  but  they  are  all  but  satisfied 
now,  for  though  one  can't  call  them  near,  they're  canny, 
an'  Archie  no  less  so  than  his  father.  '  It's  the  fat  pig 
ay'  gets  the  maist  grease,'  an'  so,  Nancy,  what  do  ye 
think  o'  me  dish  o'  gossip  ?  Didn't  I  promise  ye  fair  ? " 

"  You  did,  Polly.  I  am  glad  and  —  sorry  ;  one  doesn't 
like  to  lose  a  lover,  though  he  be  not  the  one  who  has 
won  one's  heart.  I'd  never  have  thought  Archie  would 
be  leaving  me  to  wear  the  willow." 

"  It'll  be  no  willow  you  wear.  Where's  Carter 
Ritchie  ? " 

"  Carter ! "  Agnes  spoke  in  a  tone  of  contempt. 
"Why,  Polly,  he's  but  a  boy." 

"  Where  do  ye  get  yer  full-grown  men  ?  He's  six  f ut 
if  he's  an  inch." 


326  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

"Ah,  but  that's  all  foolishness,  Polly.  I  wonder 
Jeanie  has  not  told  me  of  this." 

"  She's  nane  too  ready  to  believe  it.  She  thinks  it 
will  all  blow  over  and  that  Archie  will  be  comin'  back  to 
ye,  an*  she'll  say  no  word  to  ye  aboot  it.  But  I  had  it 
from  Jimmy  who  had  it  from  a  man  jist  from  Canons- 
burg.  They  say  Archie  an'  the  widdy  will  no  jine  in  the 
bonds  o'  matrimony  till  he's  ready  for  his  blacks,  but 
that  there's  no  doubt  she's  the  tight  holt  o'  him.  Weel, 
let  him  go.  Ye' 11  not  fret,  lass  ? "  Polly  suddenly  be- 
came anxious  at  sight  of  Agnes's  sober  face. 

"  I'll  not  be  frettin'  at  loss  of  Archie,  but  I  hope  he'll 
get  a  good  wife." 

"  Ay,  there's  naught  agin  her  as  I  can  1'arn.  She's 
a  bit  older,  but  has  winnin'  ways,  I'm  told,  an'  is  a  buxom, 
black-eyed  body.  Maybe  when  he's  out  o'  reach  o'  her 
spell,  he'll  be  turnin'  to  ye  again  as  Jeanie  is  hopin'  he'll 
do." 

Agnes  gave  her  head  a  toss.  "  I'd  not  have  him, 
Polly ;  he'd  never  have  won  me  unless  by  his  constancy 
and  perseverance.  Don't  fash  yourself  about  me ;  I'll 
have  no  heartbreak  over  Archie  M 'Clean." 

"  I  would  ha'  told  annybody  that  long  ago,"  said 
Polly,  knowingly.  "  Ye'll  bide  an'  have  a  sup  wid 
us?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  must  get  home  before  dark.  Sandy  will 
meet  me  the  other  side  at  sundown." 

"  An'  yer  father's  improvin'  ? " 


HER   HEARTS  DESIRE  327 

"  Yes,  and  is  enjoying  the  farm  and  the  children  and 
it's  all  coming  right." 

After  more  exchanging  of  news,  none  of  which  was 
of  half  the  interest  to  the  two  as  that  which  related  to 
Archie,  Agnes  helped  Polly  with  the  supper,  then  Jimmy 
came  in  and  chaffed  the  girl  about  letting  her  chances  slip 
and  letting  a  widow  cut  her  out,  making  his  clumsy  jokes 
and  laughing  loudly  at  them  himself  till  Agnes  arose  to  go. 

She  acknowledged  to  herself  as  she  climbed  the  hill 
that  she  felt  a  little  sore  over  Archie's  disaffection  ;  if 
he  had  proved  inconstant,  where  could  she  look  for  sta- 
bility ?  But  there  was  too  much  here  to  remind  her  of 
happier  days,  and  she  repeated  softly :  "  Thy  heart's 
desire;  He  will  give  thee  thy  heart's  desire."  At 
the  top  of  the  hill  she  stood  still  and  looked  back, 
then  she  turned  toward  the  river  bank.  As  she 
came  out  of  the  shadows  of  the  trees  and  glanced  down 
at  the  sands  where  her  boat  lay,  she  saw  that  some  one 
else  had  moored  a  boat  alongside  her  own.  "  It  must 
be  Carter,"  she  said;  "he  has  come  over  instead  of 
Sandy,  for  that  looks  like  his  boat ;  I'll  just  wait  here 
for  him."  She  leaned  against  a  tree,  waiting  till  he 
should  come  up,  and  in  a  moment  she  heard  the  spring- 
ing step  of  some  one  climbing  the  steep  path,  and  then 
a  glad  voice  said,  "  Agnes  !  " 

Her  heart  stood  still.  She  held  out  two  trembling 
hands  which  were  closely  clasped  in  Parker's  warm 
grasp.  "  Agnes,"  he  said.  "  Look  at  me,  little  girl,  I 


328  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

want  to  see  those  honest  blue  eyes.  Are  you  glad  to 
see  me  ? " 

"  Very  glad.     When  did  you  come  ?  " 

"  This  morning;  and  as  soon  as  I  could  I  went  to  call 
on  my  neighbors,  but  I  found  one  missing.  They  told 
me  where  I  should  find  you.  And  you  are  not  married  ? 
I  heard  you  were  going  to  be." 

''Carter  told  you  that." 

"  Yes.     Is  it  true  ? " 

"  No,  it  is  not  true.  I  heard  the  same  report  of  you. 
Is  that  true  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  whether  it  is  or  not." 

Agnes's  eyes  fell,  and  she  drew  away  her  hands. 

"  Have  you  heard  ? "  Parker  said  gravely.  "  Did  you 
know  that  my  dear  mother  is  at  peace  ? " 

"  No,  I  had  not  heard.  I  am  so  sorry  for  you,  but  it 
must  have  been  a  comfort  to  know  that  you  could  be 
with  her  all  these  last  months  of  her  life." 

"  It  was  my  comfort  and  hers,  too,  I  think." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment.  The  girl's  brain 
was  in  a  whirl.  He  was  glad  to  see  her,  but  ah,  if  he 
were  to  be  married,  she  must  not  show  him  how  glad  she 
was.  "  I  have  just  heard  a  piece  of  news,"  she  said  at  last. 

"  Yes  ?  I  hope  it  is  good  news.  Where  did  you 
learn  it  ? " 

"  From  Polly.  You  know  the  blacksmith's  shop  is 
only  second  to  the  store  in  being  a  place  for  choice  bits 
of  gossip." 


HER   HEART'S   DESIRE  329 

"  And  your  news  ? " 

"I  heard  that  Archie  M'Clean  is  to  marry  a  rich 
widow  of  Pittsburg." 

Parker  started  forward  and  grasped  Agnes's  hands 
again.  "  Then  you  are  not  going  to  marry  him  ? " 

"  I  cannot  very  well,  it  seems,"  she  laughed  lightly. 
"  Oh,  don't  be  afraid  for  me,  Mr.  Willet ;  I  am  not  heart- 
broken, nor  even  unhappy  ! " 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,  yet  —  " 

"  I  did  not  intend  to  marry  him.  I  never  intended 
to." 

"Yet  you  told  me  —  " 

"What  did  I  tell  you?" 

"  That  you  had  promised." 

"  With  a  proviso." 

"  Yes,  and  it  was  that  if  neither  saw  any  one  more 
likable  —  ah,  I  see,  you  have  found  some  one  more 
likable,  and  so  it  does  not  trouble  you.  Ah,  I  see." 
He  dropped  her  hands.  "  But  you  said  you  were  not 
going  to  be  married,  then  perhaps  it  is  not  settled  yet." 

"  And  you  said  you  didn't  know  whether  you  were  to 
be  or  not.  I  —  is  it  —  is  it  —  Alicia  ?  I  heard  —  " 

"What  did  you  hear?" 

"  That  you  were  every  day  at  her  father's  house,  and 
that  every  one  supposed  —  " 

"  Persons  suppose  a  great  deal.  I  was  there  every 
day,  because  Colonel  Southall  is  my  very  dear  friend, 
and  I  went  to  take  him  news  of  my  mother.  Besides, 


330  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

I  found  that  I  could  go  every  day  without  fearing  in 
the  least  to  meet  Alicia.  She  is  to  marry  some  one 
else,  and  I  am  very  glad,  for  he  is  a  good  fellow  and 
will  make  her  happy." 

"Then  it  is  some  other;  her  sister,  maybe.  Carter 
says  she  is  more  charming  than  Alicia,  and  if  you  are 
not  certain  —  if  you  don't  know  whether  you  are  —  " 

"  I  don't  know,  little  girl ;  it  all  depends  upon  you. 
No  one  else  in  the  wide  world  can  tell  me." 

"  On  me  ?     It  depends  on  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  will  not  marry  me,  I  shall  be  sorry  I 
came  back.  Agnes,  Agnes,  can  it  be  that,  after  all,  I 
misunderstood  and  that  I  am  the  lucky  other  fellow,  the 
more  likable  one  ?  Am  I,  Agnes  ?  " 

"Ah,  my  heart's  desire,"  breathed  the  girl,  lifting  true 
eyes  to  his. 

"Why  did  you  mislead  me  and  send  me  away  so 
utterly  wretched  ?  "  Parker  asked,  as  they  were  -rowing 
across  stream. 

"I  didn't  send  you  away;  you  went,  and  I  was 
wretched,  too,  but  I  could  not  explain.  I  did  not  think 
you  would  misunderstand  so  entirely,  and  I  had  prom- 
ised, though  I  did  find  there  was  some  one  that  I  cared 
more  for  than  for  Archie,  but  I  couldn't  tell  you  so  to 
your  face.  You  stayed  away  such  a  long  time,  that 
time,  and  I  was  telling  myself  that  if  you  loved  me,  you 
couldn't  do  it,  and  so  I  tried  to  show  you  that  I  didn't 
care,  for  you  know  you  had  never  said." 


HER   HEART'S   DESIRE  331 

"  No,  I  had  never  said  half  that  I  ought.  I  know 
now  that  I  should  have  said  nothing  at  all,  or  I  should 
have  told  you  at  once  how  much  I  loved  you.  You 
would  have  waited  for  me,  Agnes?" 

"You  know  I  would,"  she  answered  shyly. 

"  It  has  been  a  sad  time,  my  darling  little  lass.  I 
would  never  have  returned  but  for  the  faint  hope, 
which  somehow  would  not  be  downed,  that  after  all  I 
might  find  you  free,  and  then  that  mischievous  Carter 
told  me  you  were  to  be  married.  I  wonder  why  he 
dared  to  say  so.  I  have  a  crow  to  pick  with  him.  Yet, 
sweetheart,  out  of  our  sorrow  has  come  a  great  joy,  as 
we  used  to  say  long  ago.  Do  you  remember  ? " 

Agnes  was  looking  off  at  the  sunset  sky.  "  I  remem- 
ber. I  am  glad  it  was  on  the  hilltop  that  we  met  to- 
day," she  murmured. 

"  The  dear  hilltop.  It  has  been  in  my  mind  many 
and  many  a  time,  when  I  thought  I  had  lost  my  dear 
little  frontier  lass.  Many  and  many  a  time  I  fancied  I 
could  see  you  standing  there  in  your  linsey-woolsey 
gown,  with  your  sunbonnet  in  your  hand,  and  your 
little  kerchief  folded  about  your  neck.  I  told  my 
mother  about  you,  Agnes,  and  though  my  hope  was 
very  faint,  she  bade  me  keep  it  alive  and  to  come  back 
here  and  try  to  win  you.  '  And  if  you  do  find  that  your 
little  girl  is  free  and  that  her  heart  is  yours,  give  her  my 
blessing,'  she  said,  and  my  sister,  too,  said,  '  Give  Agnes 
my  love.' ' 


332  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

The  tears  came  to  Agnes's  eyes.  She  was  deeply 
touched.  "  How  little  I  deserve  it,"  she  said.  "  They 
who  are  such  dainty  ladies,  if  they  could  see  me  as  you 
see  me  now." 

"  As  I  see  you  now  ?  Ah,  dear  child,  they  would  see 
a  lady  in  very  truth,  gentle,  sweet,  and  good,  the  queen 
of  my  heart  and  home,  to  whom  I  shall  delight  to  do 
homage  as  long  as  I  am  her  humble  subject."  He  bent 
his  head  and  kissed  the  brown  hand  lying  in  his. 
"  And  when  I  take  you  to  your  mother  and  ask  you  of 
her,  will  she  give  you  to  me,  do  you  think  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  am  sure  she  will.  And  there  is  my  father, 
too.  You  know  about  my  father  ?  " 

"  I  heard  and  was  filled  with  rejoicing.  It  was  from 
Henry  Flint  that  I  heard.  He  wrote  and  told  me  of 
what  his  stay  at  your  house  had  done  for  him.  I 
thought,  maybe,  Agnes',  that  he  might  be  the  '  more 
likable  one.' " 

"  Dr.  Flint  ?  Oh,  no.  He  seems  so  very  much  older, 
and  he  is  but  our  good  friend." 

"  He  worships  your  mother,  and  says  she  is  his  ideal 
woman,  and  —  "  Parker  leaned  forward  again,  —  "her 
daughter  grows  more  and  more  like  her." 

It  was  dusk  when  they  reached  the  house,  but  it  was 
not  too  dark  for  the  mother  to  see  the  joyful  light  in  her 
daughter's  eyes  as  she  came  up  and  put  her  arms  about 
her,  whispering,  "  Oh,  mother,  my  heart's  desire,  my 
heart's  desire !  " 


HER   HEART'S   DESIRE  333 

"  My  bonny  lass,  my  little  Agnes,"  her  mother  mur- 
mured, her  eyes  rilling. 

"  Will  you  give  her  to  me,  Mrs.  Kennedy  ? "  said 
Parker,  watching  the  two. 

"  Ay,  lad ;  she's  given  herself,  I  see,  and  it's  not  my 
hand  that  would  separate  you." 

"  I  shall  live  your  next  neighbor,"  said  Agnes,  lift- 
ing her  head. 

"  Ah,  my  wean,  so  soon  to  be  thinking  of  that,"  her 
mother  answered  sadly. 

"  I  am  going  to  find  Mr.  Kennedy,"  Parker  told  them, 
and  he  went  out  leaving  the  girl  with  her  mother,  to 
pour  out  her  tale  of  happiness  and  to  tell  of  Polly's  gossip. 

"  So,  mother  dear,"  the  girl  said,  laughing,  "  I  am 
very  fortunate,  you  see,  for,  as  Polly  says,  I  shall  not  be 
*  left  settin','  and  though  you  will  not  have  the  honor  of 
being  the  mother-in-law  to  a  meenister,  you'll  have  me 
near  you  always  and  I  shall  have  you,  which  to  my  mind 
is  much  better." 

Presently  the  men  folks  came  tramping  in  —  Fergus 
Kennedy,  Sandy,  Parker  Willett,  and  Carter. 

"What's  this  I  hear,  you  sly  puss?"  said  Carter, 
making  a  dash  for  Agnes,  and  taking  her  hands  to 
shake  them  heartily. 

She  laughed  confusedly,  but  she  held  up  her  head,  for 
she  had  no  cause  for  shame.  "  How  dared  you  tell  that  I 
was  going  to  be  married,  you  naughty  lad  ? "  she  asked. 

"Well,  aren't    you?"  returned   Carter,    impudently. 


334  A  GENTLE  PIONEER 

"  However,"  when  the  laugh  had  subsided  he  went  on, 
"  I  was  thinking  about  that  time  that  I'd  marry  you 
myself,  but  I've  concluded  to  wait  for  Margret," 
which  in  very  truth  he  did.  "Are  you  going  to  turn 
me  out,  Cousin  Park  ?  "  he  asked  ruefully. 

"  Not  till  you  want  to  go." 

"  I'll  buy  my  own  land,  then,  and  set  up  for  myself 
as  soon  as  my  lady-love  is  old  enough,"  he  said  soberly. 
And  then  he  crossed  the  room  to  where  Margret  sat 
covered  with  confusion. 

The  news  of  Parker's  return  spread  quickly  through 
the  neighborhood,  and  the  next  day  brought  Polly  and 
Jeanie  to  hear  the  truth  of  the  report  which  Carter  had 
not  been  slow  to  scatter  abroad.  Polly  fairly  hugged 
Parker  in  the  exuberance  of  her  joy  at  his  return,  and 
though  she  maintained  that  there  was  no  one  good 
enough  for  Nancy,  she  was  mightily  pleased  when  she 
was  told  of  what  she  called  Parker's  luck.  Jeanie  was 
relieved  to  be  free  to  give  her  news  of  Archie,  though 
she  insisted  that  it  was  all  Agnes's  fault,  and  that  her 
brother  had  been  obliged  to  go  elsewhere  for  consola- 
tion when  Agnes  jilted  him.  It  was  plain  to  those  who 
in  years  after  met  the  Rev.  and  Mrs.  Archie  M'Clean, 
that  the  good  man  had  been  unable  to  withstand  the 
widow's  subtle  flattery,  which  she  was  well  versed  in 
using,  but  which  was  no  part  of  Agnes's  art  of  pleasing, 
though  in  all  cases  it  will  win  a  man  whose  bump  of 
self-esteem  is  a  match  for  Archie's. 


HER   HEART'S   DESIRE  335 

It  was  in  October  that  Parker  and  Agnes  took  pos- 
session of  their  little  home,  and  there  was  a  great  house- 
warming,  which  those  for  miles  around  attended.  They 
were  all  there,  the  friends  who  had  stood  shoulder  to 
shoulder  with  the  young  couple  when  they  first  started 
to  win  their  way  in  the  wilderness  —  Dod  Hunter  and 
his  strapping  sons,  the  M'Cleans,  all  but  Archie,  Jeanie 
and  David  Campbell,  Dr.  Flint,  Jimmy  O'Neill,  and 
last,  but  not  least,  Polly,  who  was  the  life  of  the  occa- 
sion, and,  it  is  reported,  nearly  persuaded  the  minister 
to  dance  an  Irish  jig,  so  "  delutherin'  "  was  she,  but  it 
was  Carter  who  told  this,  and  its  accuracy  may  be 
judged  accordingly.  Carter,  be  it  said,  vied  with  Polly 
in  his  lively  efforts  to  make  every  one  have  a  good 
time. 

And  when  the  fun  and  feasting  had  become  a  thing 
of  the  past,  one  evening  Parker  and  Agnes  climbed  the 
hill  that  overlooked  O'Neill's  clearing.  Hand  in  hand 
they  stood  looking  at  the  sunset,  Agnes  very  serious, 
feeling  a  little  the  weight  of  her  new  responsibilities. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of  ? "  she  asked  her  hus- 
band. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  of  the  years  to  come.  We 
are  pioneers,  Agnes,  but  we  have  a  great  future  before 
us.  We  are  soon  to  be  a  state ;  even  now  the  wilderness 
begins  to  blossom  like  the  rose.  Those  dangers  of  the 
early  days  will  never  be  ours.  We  shall  grow  and  en- 
large our  borders  and  open  the  way  for  others,  who  will 


336  A  GENTLE   PIONEER 

strike  farther  and  farther  west.  We  have  crossed  our 
mountains,  dear,  and  the  way  is  plain  before  us." 
Such  was  the  man's  thought.  "And  of  what  was 
my  wife  thinking?" 

"Of  our  home;  of  whether  I  shall  ever  disappoint 
you,  and  whether  I  shall  learn  to  be  like  my  mother, 
so  strong,  so  helpful,  so  patient;  if  I  could  but  be  to 
you  what  she  is  to  my  father." 

"You  are  now,  my  brave  little  lass,"  said  Parker, 
drawing  her  close.  "  You  are  all  that,  strong,  and  help- 
ful, and*  patient,  and  when  we  are  an  old,  old  couple,  I 
shall  say  to  you,  as  your  father  so  often  says  to  your 
mother,  '  Ye  are  my  ain  hand's  morrow.' " 


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